


Surge/Surrender

by Munchkin47



Series: Ebb/Flow [3]
Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-07
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-08-19 18:10:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 46,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16539590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Munchkin47/pseuds/Munchkin47
Summary: Three years after the events of Ebb/Flow.Charles has successfully adapted to his new life, and is thriving in his roles as a teacher at his own school and as a parent. Erik is considerably less successful at doing the same. With the threat of Erik's unfinished business still looming over them, the last thing they expected was a chance encounter with each other.





	1. Chapter 1

Charles slowly examined the plate that had been placed in front of him.

The pristine white porcelain plate had been abjectly humiliated – no, desecrated in an apparent lack of respect to its true function. A large hunk of meat sat in the middle of the dish, so blue that Charles could still hear the cow mooing a protest of its mistreatment. The mound of beige powder-like mash that sat on one side was probably supposed to be mashed potatoes, and a couple of sickly looking beans lay on the other side. Inside the gravy dish directly in front of him held a thick, soupy pool of congealed gravy.

This was the last time he was ever going to let Logan cook. The man had slaughtered the Sunday roast with reckless disregard that bordered on disrespect.

‘The cow’s still alive, Logan,’ Charles said, poking the meat with his steak knife.

Logan rolled his eyes and dug into his own meal with relish. ‘It’s my turn to cook. You either eat or you starve. That’s your own rule, Xavier.’

Charles reluctantly picked up his fork.                                                                                   

Across the table, David piped up. ‘You’ve got to eat, daddy. You always say don’t be picky! Eat everything on your plate!’ he mocked happily, digging into the powdery mash.

‘Did you make the potatoes from scratch, Logan?’ Charles asked suspiciously.

‘Of course not,’ Logan said. ‘Why would I? The packet said just add hot water.’

‘Just add hot water!’ David copied, and tried to reach for the bowl of potato mash. ‘I’ll give you more, daddy.’

Charles moved his plate just out of reach. ‘I’m good, darling,’ he said. Charles resigned himself to eating Logan’s cooking, and reminded himself he only had to put up with it for a little longer.

It was only a few weeks before the school year kicked in again, and they would be back to business as usual. Cookie, the charming British cook, would be back in the kitchen, serving up delicious, warm and edible food to all the teachers and students who lived at the mansion. The students had gone off on their summer vacations, returning for visits with their families, leaving only Charles and David, and as always, Logan.

It had been three years since Charles left New York City, choosing to return home to Graymalkin Lane in Westchester. It had been his childhood home growing up, until he left for university as a young adult. The house had never held the happiest memories, with the strife between his parents and his mother’s general inattentiveness to anything that wasn’t in a wineglass.

But it had been the right place to return to after the incident. He had reclaimed the manor, tapped into the vast wealth of his inheritance, and made appropriate modifications to accommodate his needs.

His resignation from Columbia came at a price – his own mental wellbeing. With nothing to occupy him and the confronting reality of learning how to live with a disability, he had sunk into a deep depression within the first few months. When Moira came to visit him, she tried to persuade him to return, if only for the sake of his mental health.

There were nights that he thought would never end, where he would lie awake, tortured by the sheer agony of inflamed and damaged nerves misfiring in a hundred different directions, sending pain signals back and forth to his brain in an attempt to work out where his legs were. He would cry in the dark, bawling like a little baby, unable to find solace until sleep finally took him just before the sun peeked across the horizon.

Still, it was nothing compared to the emotional struggle as his brain and heart tried to accept his new reality, as anger and fury worked to sink him, and helplessness attempted to drown him. Self-recrimination and the shock at the injustice of it all were faithful bedtime companions for a very long time, and he had made many futile attempts to banish them.

But Charles hadn’t let the loss of his legs defeat him. He certainly would not surrender for anything else. So he channeled his energies into changing his life, his perspective, the way he saw things. As he clawed back one day at a time, the nights began to follow, and the physical and mental pain slowly began vanishing. Within the raging, unfathomable fire of his loss, he reforged himself and paved the way for acceptance and peace.

He went back to doing what he did best – teaching, and combining it with his passion – young minds. His first student had been an accident, really.

Warren Worthington II had been a wealthy patron of the university, and had always displayed an academic interest in Charles’s research. One day, he had shown up at the Xavier Mansion, with his own son in tow. Little Warren was having trouble actually controlling his own abilities, and living in penthouse in New York City was a little too dangerous for him. He kept clambering out of the window and would drop ten, twenty stories before flapping his wings weakly and managing to get to the closest balcony somewhat safely.

Warren knew that Charles was a mutant himself, and they had a personal connection in the past. So he decided to discreetly ask for help. He didn’t know how to handle his own son’s mutation. Charles had offered to work with them, ensure that Warren’s control over his own abilities would improve with some work.

When little Warren received enough instruction to demonstrate a modicum of control over his own abilities, his father had been very impressed. He asked if Charles would take him in as a student, and he would be happy to pay whatever school fees that Charles asked.

So it was purely by accident that they fell into this boarding school scenario. Charles had to pull his head out of his own arse in order to properly teach Warren. In doing so he realized there was a wonderful sense of fulfilment that he needed in his life, and that teaching was a higher calling, a vocation beyond the reams of paperwork and scholarly articles and assigning grades and doing presentations and lectures, like he used to have to do while at Columbia. This was real hands-on teaching, the ability to reach beyond himself and to help someone else in their own mastery of life.

Then Charles began advertising enrolments for the Xavier Academy for Higher Learning. To his shock, he managed to get so much unexpected interest that he had to turn them away. Then he thought about his own connections, and began rather gleefully to poach the people he knew. His own significant net worth meant he could throw fistfuls of money at the best people with complete impunity.

Moira had been the first, but she had said no, having taken into consideration her newly blossoming relationship with a man who lived in the city. But she told him to hold a spot for her, and he promised he would. But after that the ‘yes’ answers came hard and fast. Jean Grey and Scott Summers came through, as did a brilliant scientist that Charles had only known by reputation, Henry McCoy, and most unexpectedly, Logan, who had accepted his offer almost immediately. He had dropped everything, given Moira the middle finger and a kiss on her cheek, and had jumped into Charles’s car.

So he ended up with a faculty of five, and a student body of six, including his own son. He had restricted the numbers in the first year to ensure all the teething problems were ironed out. But when fall began, they would get a new crop of students. Not bad for their second year of operation.

Logan had become Charles’s confidante of sorts. When Charles had expressed private doubts about whether they were able to teach the children effectively, but Logan had given him a most patronizing look, and then said in a completely deadpan drawl, ‘We have three PhDs between the two of us, and you’re wondering if we’re able to teach to the state curriculum. Riiiiiiight.’

And he had also been there for Charles when he had hit his lowest point.

A year and a few months after the accident, Charles thought that he had adapted fairly well to his new circumstances. He had spared no expense in retrofitting the massive home with all the necessary equipment such as ramps and grab bars to ensure he could get around on his own, thus maintaining a high level of independence that suited his sense of autonomy. Doorways had to be widened, furniture and appliances modified to a lower height, and elevators and railings had to be added. He paid handsomely to install an automated and voice controlled system that held access to all the lights and electronics in the house. He bought the best wheelchair money could buy – a light, titanium electric mobility chair that Hank constantly tinkered with and upgraded. He paid the best people to provide physical therapy, medical advice and at one point, psychological aid.

Before his disability, Charles had never had much use for money. He lived a simple life with David, and on his single income from teaching. It was enough to pay for the mortgage, the car, the bills, and the yearly vacation.

But now he used the money from his inheritance rather unashamedly, almost gleefully. He had been so pleased with the new adaptations to the home he had forgotten that learning how to live with a disability could be a steep learning curve even at the best of times, just as on the one occasion that he had dismissed the personal care worker in the evening and had tried to see to his own bath.

He had drawn the bath, looking forward to be boiled alive in the hot water like a lobster, when he had placed his hand firmly on the edge of the tub before hauling himself over. But he had misjudged the distance, as well as the slippery nature of wet porcelain. He had slipped, nearly gave himself a concussion, and had tumbled with a thundering, humiliating thud onto the ground.

The unexpected shock of pain actually was the straw that broke the camel’s back. He had been due for a good cry for a while now, so he just sat there, naked against the cold floor tiles, cursing his unmoving limbs, silently giving in to the tears of self-pity that rose through him like a cleansing flood.

He heard a quick tap at the door. ‘Xavier, you still alive in there? Did you hit your head and die? I heard the thud.’

Charles took a deep shaky breath. ‘I’m fine, Logan. I just took a spill.’

‘You need any help?’

‘No, I’ll be fine, thank you,’ Charles said. That was before he tried to get back up and he realized that he might have sprained his left wrist. Supporting his entire body weight with one hand would be close to an impossibility. But still, he tried. He tried to use the wheelchair as leverage to push his body up, or tried to grapple with the smooth tub surface, and only skittered and slammed against it for his efforts.

Charles pushed his hair back, and sighed. ‘You still there, Logan?’

‘Yep.’

‘I need help,’ Charles admitted. He heard a small click at the door as Logan unlocked it from his side. Charles was grateful that he had installed two-sided locks, precisely for reasons like this.

When he looked up, Logan was crouched by his side. He saw only compassion in Logan’s eyes.

‘Sorry,’ Charles said, gesturing to himself. For his nudity, the awkward circumstance, the useless legs. He didn’t even know what he for apologizing for anymore.

‘Relax,’ Logan said. ‘I’ve seen junk that’s way uglier than yours.’ He slid one arm under Charles’s knees and the other behind his back, before hoisting him up like he was practically weightless. Logan gently placed him into the water, which was now tepid.

‘Thanks, Logan,’ Charles said.

‘You need to start working out those puny arm muscles,’ Logan said.

Charles nodded. ‘I know. I really should … Sorry.’ 

Logan shrugged, and dipped his hand into the water briefly before splashing Charles’s face. Charles knew he could see his red eyes, the tear streaks down his face.  ‘Don’t ever feel embarrassed, Xavier. No one thinks less of you because you ask for help. And certainly, you have nothing to be ashamed about. Enjoy your bath, and call me when you’re done.’

Then he walked out, and gently closed the door behind him.

There were good and bad days. As the years passed, the good days thankfully outnumbered the bad. They were hard-earned, hard-fought pieces of happiness. He had learned to accept his disability as a way of life, rather than an enemy to contend with.

It took him many, many days to be happy again, and to find a calm, older, wiser Charles inside of him.

And back in the present, he watched as Logan destroyed his bloody steak. ‘You gonna eat that, Xavier?’ he pointed to Charles’s practically untouched steak.

Charles pushed his plate towards Logan. ‘Go ahead. I like my meat a little less rare.’ Charles wheeled away from the table, grabbing David’s plate as he rounded the dining room and to the kitchen. As he began loading the dishwasher, he watched as David clambered onto the dining chair, and start to brandish a wooden stick in the air.

Logan chewed, watching as David swung the stick and made a couple of flourishes in the air. ‘Zord stars, lock in, activate! Ninja spin!’ he screamed exuberantly. ‘Let’s play power rangers!’

‘Not on the chair, darling,’ Charles called out.

‘Logan, Logan! Do your claws! Be Wolverine!’ David shouted, pointed his stick right at Logan’s face, who chewed patiently, and swallowed before he lifted his fist. With a loud schwing, his claws shot up from his knuckles, sending David into fits of excitement.

‘Pipe down, pink ranger,’ Logan said. ‘You’re very loud.’

David was seriously offended. ‘I’m not the pink ranger, I’m the red ranger! And I’m here to defeat you, Wolverine! Prepare yourself!’ He climbed onto the table on his knees and began swinging the stick at Logan, who parried him with the claws on one hand, while sweeping up the rest of the mashed potatoes with his fork.

‘Get off the table,’ Charles shouted at David.

David sulkily got down from the table, but ran around and stabbed Logan in the butt.

‘Stay out of there!’ Logan swatted the little boy, sending David into endless fits of giggles. Charles smiled, watching his son. Then David did a series of weird martial arts moves. Charles’s laugh came quietly and easily.

‘Hey Xavier, you’re still going down to Philly on Wednesday?’ Logan asked.

‘Yes, as scheduled. Would you like to come along?’ Charles said.

‘Hell no,’ Logan answered, walking over to the fridge and pulling out a beer, popping it with the tip of a claw. He took a loud swig. ‘I was just looking over her file and I thought it would be interesting to approach a mutant like that. I hope she likes you.’

‘I hope so too,’ Charles said, thinking about the new potential student that he would be visiting down at Philadelphia in a couple of days. Normally, he didn’t make personal visits. But this one he made an exception. Her referral had come through from the Mutant Assistance Agency. She had been bounced from agency to agency, from foster care to group homes. Her file history and the nature of her mutation indicated that she was a little too volatile for regular school. Moira’s boyfriend was the case worker assigned to her, and had contacted Charles with regards to enrolment to his school.

The girl had nothing to her name, and didn’t have the means or the funds to attend Charles’s school, Sean had said. But that was irrelevant to Charles. So he said he would meet with her, spend a few days assessing if she would be a suitable candidate to attend the academy.

‘Go on, I’ll clean up here,’ Logan said, putting his bottle down on the edge of the counter. David shouted, ‘Good night Bad Wolverine!’ and hopped onto Charles’s lap. Charles wheeled to the elevator, which took them upstairs, where he helped David brush his teeth and put on his pajamas. He read two chapters of The BFG, and tucked David into bed, before turning out the light.

By the time he made it back downstairs, the kitchen and dining area were cleaned, and Logan was working on his second bottle, watching a football game on TV. He glanced over when Charles came in. ‘Want to hit the gym?’ he asked.

Charles shook his head. ‘Maybe not tonight.’

Logan lowered his bottle, then peered disparagingly at Charles.

Charles laughed. ‘My biceps will never be as enormous as yours, Logan. I’m not going to even try.’

‘True. You’ve come a long way,’ Logan conceded. ‘Fine. I’ll wake your weak white ass up tomorrow at six so we can have a proper workout.’

Charles groaned. ‘I’m hitting the sack, then.’

Logan’s jaw dropped. ‘It’s only nine!’

‘I’m old!’ Charles shot back as he turned and wheeled out of the room, and into the elevator.

In his bedroom, he went inside the large walk-in closet to grab a comfortable nightshirt. He pulled open the sliding drawer to pull out a fresh pair of underwear when he spied something peeking out at him.

His fingers reached the coiled necktie, feeling the glide of expensive silk underneath his fingertips. He had nicked it from Erik’s closet just before he had taken off his ring and dropped it on the bureau. It had been a parting gift of sorts to himself.

It had been a while since he had needed to take it out, look at it, touch it. But there was still something about that ridiculous shade of magenta that always brought up mixed feelings inside of him, churning away until he could no longer separate them from each other. There was love and regret and loneliness and that quick flare of desire, even after all this time.

Charles gently returned the tie to the drawer and reburied it under the folded stack of handkerchiefs, shutting the drawer with a kind of empty finality.


	2. Chapter 2

Three years and not one single fucking nibble on Shaw, Erik thought. How could a man just disappear into thin air?

He sat down on an ornately carved dining chair, facing the two men and one woman who were in chairs themselves. But where he was free to get up, they were not. Emma sat just behind the trio, her legs delicately crossed, eyes on her glittery white iPhone, and talon-like fingernails tip-tapping on the keypad.

They sat in the living room of a rented villa close to the bay. From where he was sitting, he could see the gorgeous scenery outside through the windows. Today’s weather was a little too cold, unusual even for the tail-end of summer. It was too choppy for anyone to be in the waters, which made this the perfect place to be right now. Erik listened to the predictable rhythm of the waves washing ashore and the squeals of the seagulls as they swooped close.

He examined the face of the first man on his left. He was whimpering silently, tears and snot running down his milk-white face, his entire body shaking like a leaf in the wind. The one in the middle fared considerably better than his companion, having at least kept some composure, his face almost keeping out all traces of anxiety. He was an older man too, which accounted for a lot. But while the woman on his right had tears down her face, and Erik could tell she was completely terrified, there was a spark of defiance in her eyes.

‘Let’s start with you first,’ Erik said to the woman.

‘Ladies first, huh?’ Emma piped up, smirking at him. ‘And here I thought chivalry was dead.’

‘Never let it be said that I’m not all for equal opportunities,’ Erik replied. ‘Now, where is Sebastian Shaw?’ Erik asked.

She kept her mouth stubbornly shut.

So Erik lifted the gun that he held in his lap, cocked the hammer, and fired it straight at her head.

The men next to her exploded into frightened shouts and whimpers, and even Emma jumped, although not for the same reasons.

‘Jesus, Erik!’ she yelped, dropping her phone onto her lap. ‘You got blood on my boots! It’s fucking white leather!’

‘Buy yourself another two pair,’ Erik said. ‘If you could possibly put your phone down for a minute or two and actually help me, I wouldn’t have to make a mess.’

Emma gave him a dirty look. ‘Seriously?’ she snapped. ‘I already told you, they don’t know anything.’

Erik could feel the frustration inside of him start to build up and solidify into anger. ‘Nothing at all? Shaw has been infiltrating my business with spies for years and you’re telling me these people know nothing?’

‘He sent them five years ago, Erik,’ Emma said. ‘Since then they’ve just been laying low, with no contact from Shaw. They were tasked to report back by dropping handwritten information about the company and mailing it to a PO Box.’

There had been so many spies. Shaw had proven to be a master of espionage, having paid enough people to work for Erik’s company over the years, planting them within the first few months of the company’s inception. They were so deeply embedded that it had been a massive pain to flush them out into the open one by one. But it had to be done at any cost. Erik refused to have anyone on the payroll who had intentions of betraying him.

Erik caressed his thumb over the barrel of the gun he held, admiring the sophistication of the design and engineering of a high quality weapon. As he had fired the gun, his metal senses could already feel the next bullet loading automatically into the chamber, at the ready, waiting for the command that would come from Erik’s finger. It was simple, straightforward, and obedient. Not like humans. Humans were complicated, unpredictable, and only caused suffering to the ones around them.

Especially the ones who you loved the most.

He now turned the barrel to the whimpering, crying man. ‘Would you like to talk?’ Erik asked.

The crying man nodded. ‘Please, don’t kill me. I don’t know much. I was just taking orders from my handler,’ he sobbed.

Erik considered it, then fired another bullet straight into him. He didn’t like sniveling bastards who claimed to only take orders. Every choice that they had made was a conscious one. And when it was time to pay the piper, they always claimed ignorance.

This jolted the only captive man left, and he visibly jumped. He obviously hadn’t been expecting it, but was quick enough to recover. ‘I’ll tell you what I know, I’ll just ask you to spare my life. I’ll disappear from the company, you’ll never have to see me again. I promise you, I never gave away any information that wasn’t public.’

Erik turned to Emma for verification.

She shrugged. ‘He worked in public relations. He’s technically right.’

‘Where’s Shaw?’

‘The last time I received a postmarked letter from him was a year ago. It was posted from Vietnam,’ the man began.

‘Ho Chi Minh city,’ Erik completed for him. ‘We’ve already been there. Shaw’s gone.’

The man looked floored by his response, and then his assured façade suddenly melted off. ‘I guess … he left …?’ Then he realized he had damned himself. ‘Wait, there’s more, there’s something else.’

‘There’s nothing else,’ Emma confirmed.

‘No, wait, please!’ he begged. ‘I’ll work to find him for you! I’ll do anything you ask, anything! I have grandchildren!’

‘You should have thought about that before you fucked me over,’ Erik said, and shot the man with a bullet that went right through his forehead.

‘It’s not like you to make such a mess,’ Emma commented casually.

‘I was in a bad mood,’ Erik said, by way of explanation.

‘No, I totally hadn’t noticed,’ Emma said wryly. ‘You know, you would make less of a mess if you actually used your abilities to kill these worms instead of a human weapon.’

There was a blast as Azazel arrived behind him. Erik heard a long-suffering sigh from the Russian. ‘Erik, this is rented house,’ he grunted. ‘Hard to get bloodstains out of carpets.’

Erik shrugged, disarming the gun and placing it on the coffee table in front of him.

‘Buy them a new carpet. This color’s ugly anyway,’ Erik said.

‘It’s blue. Nothing wrong with it, except that you’ve plastered blood and brains all over the carpet,’ Raven said from behind. ‘Oh, you got some on the couch too. Maybe you should do this sort of shit in the dining room.’

Erik lifted his head. ‘Azazel, tell your girlfriend to keep her advice to herself,’ he said.

Azazel walked around the bodies, slumped over, still and unmoving in the chairs. ‘Tell her yourself.’

Erik watched as Raven walked into view, and tutted at him. ‘Wow, you must be feeling especially mean today.’

Emma stood up, and flashed her leg at Raven. ‘Tell me about it. Look at my boots.’

Erik rolled his eyes and turned to Azazel. ‘You’ve got the clean up here, Azazel?’

‘Yes,’ Azazel sighed.

‘Then I’ll be at the office,’ he told the three of them.

Emma shrugged at him. ‘I’m done for the day, sugar. I’m not going to walk around with dirty boots. I’m going shopping. Come along, Raven?’

‘Maybe next time, Emma. There’s something I need to discuss with our esteemed leader.’

Azazel whisked them away back to the relative comfort of Erik’s office space, where he breathed out slowly as he sunk into his couch. His initial anger slowly dissipated into that all-too-familiar feeling of exhaustion and slow-burning frustration at the fact that Shaw had outmaneuvered him at every turn. True, Shaw was the man who had been his mentor, teaching Erik all the tricks he knew. But evidently, he had kept a couple left tucked under his sleeve.

Raven sat down from across him, and handed him a glass with a finger of whiskey.

‘What do you want, Raven?’ Erik asked abruptly, taking the offered glass.

‘I need a couple of weeks off,’ she said.

‘No,’ Erik replied, downing the whiskey in a single gulp.

‘Erik, don’t be unreasonable,’ Raven began.

‘I’m not,’ he said, cutting her off. ‘We have another lead, and I need you to look into it.’

‘Why can’t you travel over there yourself?’ Raven asked.

Erik glared at her from over his empty glass. ‘You want to say that again?’

‘Come on,’ Raven cajoled. ‘You’ve been in such a terrible mood lately. A little interstate travel’s not going to kill you. In fact, you can probably go see the sights. Take a load off. Have a couple of cheesesteaks. That ought to put you in a good mood. A cheesesteak always puts me in a good mood.’

Erik put the glass down with an irritated little click. ‘I’m not going to do your job for you, Raven. And the reason why I’m in a bad mood is because we found another asshole on my payroll working for Shaw. That’s another person I have to deal with.’

‘Didn’t look like it was such a hardship with the other three,’ she quipped.

‘I fucking hate it,’ Erik said. ‘I hate the fact that Shaw’s planted so many in the business, and I’m having this much trouble actually weeding them out.’

‘It’s your own damn fault for having such a large corporation that Emma can’t mind read all of them. I get it, Erik. But I really need a couple weeks’ vacation.’

‘Why?’

‘Personal business,’ Raven said, suddenly looking hesitant and unsure.

‘Then no.’ Erik stood up. ‘If that’s it then, Raven, I need to get back to my work.’

‘Erik, I’m pregnant.’

That surprised Erik enough that he actually paused and turned around. ‘Mazel tov, Raven.’

‘Thank you.’

‘Does Azazel know yet?’ Erik asked.

‘Yes. Believe me, he was as shocked as I was when I found out. We didn’t expect this,’ she admitted.

Erik actually laughed out loud for a second. His laugh felt rusty and unfamiliar.

‘What’s so funny?’ Ravens said suspiciously.

Erik shook his head. ‘You and your brother are cut from the same cloth. Unexpected surprise pregnancies,’ he clarified. ‘Maybe you should actually learn how to use protection.’

‘You’re funny,’ Raven said. ‘But that’s why I want some time off. I need to go talk to him, tell him about this news before he drops dead of a heart attack seeing me with a massive belly the next time I show up. This weekend’s the perfect opportunity. Besides, now that we’re in our second trimester, I want to stop shifting until the baby arrives.’

‘What’s this weekend?’

‘Nothing. But it’s David’s 6th birthday next week. I want to build up slowly to it, and definitely not drop in and say, “I’m pregnant and happy birthday”,’ Raven answered, avoiding Erik’s gaze. Erik knew that she always refrained from referring to Charles where possible, or even saying his name. Erik was secretly grateful for it. It brought a new pang of fresh pain every single time his mind drifted to that man, like a wound that never healed.

‘Fine,’ Erik said. ‘Finish up your work for this week and take two weeks off, starting Monday. Leave your boyfriend here with me.’

‘I wasn’t going to take him with me anyway,’ Raven said. ‘I don’t even know how to introduce him to my brother.’

‘He doesn’t know about Azazel?’ Erik asked. Charles must be the most obtuse telepath he had ever known.

‘No. If he did, I would have had to explain how I met him, and … bring up the topic of … uh, you. So I haven’t. Because it’s kind of awkward,’ Raven said, flustered. She was rarely flustered. ‘Anyway, thanks for that. I’ll talk to you later,’ she finished, practically running out the door.

So David was nearly six years old. Time hadn’t just passed him by. It had slapped him on the way out, sped past to the point of no return. He felt older, wearier, and deep down inside, the anger and regret and pain and remorse had coiled up into a hard little kernel that he carried with him everywhere he went.

Not a single day went by where Erik had not thought of Charles.

In the beginning, the thought of Charles had brought fresh pain. Where was he? Was he well? How was he getting along? Was he adapting to the loss of his legs? Did he hate Erik? The questions ate at him like an unquenchable fire.

But like all things, the fire had simmered down to a low flame, constantly burning but no longer consuming everything in its path. He began to pull the wreckage of his own life together, channeling all his agony into work, and hunting down Shaw.

When his head finally became clear, he used his resources to track down Charles. It wasn’t hard, and he knew Charles didn’t intentionally set out to escape from him. Raven was unwilling to disclose his location. But a quick check of his finances led to the discovery of Charles’s vast estate, notably one which was undergoing active refurbishment in Westchester County.

He tried to pry information out of Raven, to limited success. In the process of getting to know her, Erik found that her mutation of shape-shifting was extremely useful for his line of work, especially those done in the shadows. So he had recruited her to the team in the areas of operation where he still liked to personally oversee.

She in turn, had helped him weed out Shaw’s spies, one at a time.

Every human he killed was a stepping stone leading him closer to Sebastian Shaw. Erik could not, and would not stop. He would not rest until Shaw was dead and dusted in the ground.

Erik poured himself another drink, and closed his eyes, resting his head briefly against the couch. He was bone-achingly tired.

But in the three years that he had spent apart from Charles, he recognized something needed to change, that something in his life had to be different for when Charles was ready to welcome him back into his life. So he made a decision, the ultimate sacrifice for Charles’s impeccable moral compass and his black and white view of the world. Thus he began the laborious, painful process of tying up loose ends, legitimizing his business operations, bringing to the light areas of operation where the shadows had thrived.

And he knew despite his own reservations, it was the right thing to do – by the people he loved. He didn’t mind getting his hands dirty, but he did not want the same legacy for his children. And he knew his mother would be pleased as well. After all, she spent the majority of her daily visits to the synagogue, praying for him to turn to the light.

Shaw would be his last hunt. He would die before he let that one go.

He poured himself another drink, and stoked the fire that burned inside of him.


	3. Chapter 3

Charles beamed at the bellboy who carted in his modest luggage. The kid was exceedingly helpful, Charles thought to himself, and tipped him generously. He had been chatty, recommending the sights of the city, as well as helping him lift his bags onto the luggage racks and move various items down to eye level so Charles didn’t have to do it himself.

He was only intending to be in Philadelphia for two or three days, but was prepared to allow for longer if necessary. His main goal was to talk to the girl, assess her suitability and lay out her options. Business aside, he was quite excited to be meeting with Moira, who promised to drive up since he would be consulting with Sean, as this was his case. He hadn’t seen his girl in a couple of months now, and he desperately missed her.

But this was also his first time in the city, and he quite looked forward to visiting the various historical landmarks. He had reservations leaving David behind, of course. But Logan promised to keep him alive, and Jean and Scott were returning a day after Charles left. So Charles was completely prepared to enjoy himself.

As he wheeled around the generous executive suite, which he picked because of its spaciousness and ease of access, he wondered what he would do first. He had read a couple of brochures given to him by the concierge, and was rather excited to explore this place which had so much history attached to it. Would he visit the Liberty Bell first, or the Independence Hall?

Instead, in the end, he called room service and ordered himself a lunch of grilled salmon with a lemon butter sauce, lightly seared asparagus and baby potatoes with a garden salad on the side, as well as a lovely dry Californian Pinot Noir.

He enjoyed his meal in complete silence, soaking up every moment of it.

Then he climbed onto the bed and watched an episode of The Bold and the Beautiful. It was terrible, but Charles rather liked it. Someone slept with someone else’s brother, and two other people got into a fight and one fell into a coma. Cue shock and horror.

When the episode ended, Charles dozed against the thick, fluffy hotel pillows.

It was shaping up to be the most wonderful day so far.

Then in the late afternoon, he woke up feeling energetic and happy. He freshened up, and got ready to go out. He pulled out a brown case file from his suitcase, and tucked it in the messenger bag that hung from his wheelchair. Then he took the elevator down to the lobby, where his car was waiting out front.

Of all things that he had acquired since his disability, it was his car that brought him the greatest joy, simply because it gave him the independence and freedom to resume his daily activities. After they moved to Westchester, Charles realized that his Toyota SUV would no longer do the trick. So he sold the car, bought a minivan, and dropped a cool 100k modifying it to his needs. All the controls were done by hand or touch or voice, and he was able to get into the vehicle with his wheelchair without needing to transfer in.

He loved the car. It reminded him that he didn’t need to have the use of his legs to get to places, take his son out to parks or playgrounds, do the groceries and get around town. He didn’t someone else to drive him anywhere. He could do it all himself.

With the car, he wasn’t just a paraplegic man. He was Charles Xavier.

He drove towards a friendly and accessible café that Sean had recommended. He wheeled in, ordered a cup of tea and a slice of chocolate cake that was completely his, since his five year old was nowhere near him. He was in such a good mood that he practically radiated good will towards everyone.

Sean walked in with his charge, a sullen, quiet teenager with a streak of white in her jet black hair. It was a beautiful day, and Charles was comfortably dressed in a collared shirt with the sleeves rolled up and tucked neatly in his slacks. But this girl was covered up from neck to toe in all black, including her fingers. No inch of skin showed. At first Charles thought that this might be something teenage girls were doing currently, but then it occurred to him it might be because of her mutation. Charles understood immediately.

The nature of each individual’s mutation was unpredictable and diverse. That was what made it hard to be a mutant in today’s world, despite the widespread acceptance. Some mutations showed in the physical appearance, and some were hidden. Some were useful, and yet there were many who had no apparent use at all. There was no single manual that told you how to live with it, how to use it and how to not let it use you. The genetic mutations were completely random, and Charles felt he was lucky to have a relatively good relationship with his own powers.

He turned his attention to Sean Cassidy, who looked a lot younger than what Moira had led him to believe. But he had an open, dependable face, with a comforting air about him that Charles liked instantly. Sean placed his messenger bag on the ground and extended a hand to Charles. ‘Professor Xavier, it’s so good to finally meet you. Moira sends her apologies. She had a late meeting and won’t be joining us today.’

Charles shook his hand. ‘Just call me Charles, Sean. After all, I’m no longer a professor.’ He nodded to the girl. ‘Hello, Anna.’ She nodded back, slowly and reluctantly.

‘But you’ll always be my professor,’ Sean said charmingly, and that instantly made Charles sit up and take notice.

‘Sorry, Sean, have we met before?’ Charles asked politely.

‘Heh. I was your student when you first started out at Columbia, prof. You were teaching Mutant Genetics 113. I wasn’t the best student, only a step above mediocre, so you probably don’t remember me.’

‘You were a student of mine?’ Charles asked, suddenly very delighted with the smallness of this world. And how he now had ammunition in order to mess with Moira. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t remember.’

‘That’s all right. You must have had so many students,’ Sean said, taking out a folder from his bag. ‘Anyways, I’m so glad that you could meet with us. Anna, do you want something to eat or drink?’

‘A coffee or cake, perhaps?’ Charles asked. But Anna shook her head, and remained silent.

‘I’ll have a coffee,’ Sean said. ‘I’m driving back to New York after this, in rush hour traffic. It’s going to be insane,’ he said in an exaggerated voice, prompting the tiniest smile from Anna.

They exchanged pleasantries and small talk until Sean’s coffee came. That was when Sean opened up the folder. ‘Now, Anna, we can take this at whatever pace you’re comfortable with. This is Professor Charles Xavier. He runs the Academy. It’s a small school, but they have very good teachers, all mutants, so this could be a very good option for you. Did you have any questions for the professor?’

Anna toyed with the hem of her skirt before she finally looked up. ‘Are the students there all mutants?’

‘All but one,’ Charles said. ‘My son may or may not be a mutant, as he has not yet displayed any abilities.’

‘How old are they?’

‘There’s a fairly wide range of ages. My son is six this year, but all of them are between 9 to 18 years old. So with you, Anna, you would fit right in.’

‘So if I went there, and I’m not saying I am, but if I did, then I would leave at 18?’

‘Well, yes and no. This is not an ordinary school, but one that is designed to help you learn how to coexist with your mutation. That means you will learn to control your mutation, adapt to the circumstances around you, and make yourself into a useful mutant who will contribute to society. The teachers you will access are all highly qualified, and mutants themselves. Some of them are closer to your age than to mine. Your learning doesn’t end, but your formal schooling will finish at 18. If you choose to leave after that, to go to university for further studies, then you are free to go. If you choose to stay to keep working with your powers, then you are perfectly welcome as well. Either way, this place will become your home for as long as you wish.’

‘So I don’t have to go back into foster care?’ she asked.

‘No. Not unless that is something you wish to do,’ Charles answered.

Anna lapsed into a thoughtful silence, and Charles and Sean took that as a signal to turn to the matters of paperwork in order to give her time to think. She kept eyeing the slice of chocolate cake on the table, so Charles discreetly pushed it over to her.

Charles glanced over at her briefly. Anna was just a scared child in the body of an angry teenager with poor control over her powers. He was looking forward to help her harness her abilities, but he could see it would take him a little longer to convince her to overcome her natural reticence.

He decided that he was done pushing for the day. ‘I was wondering, Anna, if I would be able to visit you at your foster home where you currently live. Sean has mentioned that could be another option.’

Anna nodded slightly.

‘Great,’ Charles said brightly.

Sean nodded along. ‘I’ll send you the address, professor. If you’re intending to visit tomorrow, I won’t be able to join you, but there’s another social worker who could supervise the visit. I’ll be up here again in a couple of days. Is that all right with you, Anna? Text me if you have any questions.’

As they got up to leave, Charles noticed that the plate of chocolate cake only had crumbs left. He smiled at Anna, and shook Sean’s hand again. He waved them out of the café, and sat back down, pleased with the progress so far.

Then he pulled out his phone and dialed a number.

‘MacTaggert speaking,’ said the voice on the other end.

‘Hello,’ Charles said. ‘Is that my friend Moira the cradle snatcher?’

Moira groaned. ‘Shut up, Charles! Shut up! Don’t even go there. What the hell did Sean say?’

Charles sniggered down the phone. ‘He mentioned that I used to teach him back in the day. That was what, about ten years ago?’

‘He’s not that young, Charles! Stop it! He’s a perfectly respectable age, all right?’

‘I know he is. But are you?’ he chuckled.

‘If you were here, Charles Xavier, I would throw this phone at your head. Sorry I couldn’t meet you today. I had a meeting that ran late.’

‘It’s all right, Moira. It’s closer for you to drive up to Westchester than to Philadelphia.’

‘But I wanted to introduce you to Sean, that’s all,’ Moira pouted. ‘Did you like him?’

‘I liked him immensely,’ Charles said. ‘He seems like such a nice and lovely young man. Where did you meet him?’

‘Promise not to laugh,’ Moira asked.

‘No,’ Charles said. ‘I make no such promise.’

Moira made a low noise in her throat. ‘At one of the alumni meetings I got roped into,’ she said.

Charles laughed. He listened to Moira make more promises about visiting him up at the mansion, and they hung up. Charles remained there for a little longer, watching the sun begin to set. When the crowds pounding the pavement began to thin out, Charles set out, so he could leisurely wheel down the pavement and see the glittering lights of the city.

Perhaps tomorrow he would first pay a visit to the famed Liberty Bell, then visit with Anna, where they could perhaps get to know each other a little better. Charles wanted to gain Anna’s trust first, since it would then provide an easier transition for when Anna was ready to join them for the new school year.

By the time he got back into his car and headed back to the hotel, he was ready to have dinner. He dropped the car off with the valet, and made his way through the beautiful, glittering lobby. He was briefly tempted as he wheeled past the lounge and the restaurant on the way to the elevator bank, but he decided against it. He had such a good time during lunch, there was no reason he couldn’t do it again. Then he could call David, and check on him before he retired for the night.

A prickle of unease made the hair on the back of his neck stand up, but after he did a quick scan of the minds around him, he dismissed it out of hand. There was no threat that he could see or sense. Perhaps he was just hungry.

And just as the elevator closed behind him, he felt something. His gut began churning, uneasy. It was like a tiny warning going off in his head, telling him that there was something odd. But try as he did, he just couldn’t put a finger on it.  


	4. Chapter 4

Erik looked around at the room. It was unnecessarily opulent, a complete waste of money. He ought to have a word with Emma about booking rooms like that. But he could hear Emma’s voice in his head now. She would say, ‘Stop quibbling about money. For a rich man, you sure are annoyingly cheap. And besides, I booked the room for Raven. You’re the one who replaced her. I’m not about to change reservations because of that.’

All Erik needed was a bed and a bathroom, and he would be satisfied. He could never understand how his fellow mutants enjoyed the trappings of luxury. After all, it was just stuff. A large bed with expensive linen didn’t necessarily mean a better night’s sleep. And a shower in a bathroom with pristine fixings didn’t feel better. And the meal he had just had at the hotel’s starred restaurant didn’t mean the food went down more easily.

He ate and slept out of necessity. Sometimes he felt like his life was that way too. He woke up to live another day because he had to, not necessarily because he wanted to.

But now he turned his focus towards the reason why he was in this place. He was tracking a man who had once worked for him but had quit about four months ago. Raven was convinced that he had recent contact with Shaw, and Erik was here to find out exactly what the man knew.

It was good old fashioned hunting, something that he hadn’t done in a while since he had subordinates who did the legwork for him. He had staked out the man at his supposed address for a couple of days now, and Erik was ready to make his move tonight.

Either way, once the matter was complete, Erik would have a good night’s sleep.

Erik changed into a black turtleneck and jeans, and pulled on a black leather jacket to ward against the night chill. As he descended down to the lobby, he suddenly felt something. Or to be more accurate, his metal senses began to stir. They tracked an intricately engineered piece of equipment, made with titanium and steel and copper, with wires running internally. Without looking at it, Erik thought it was probably a mobility vehicle of some sort, possibly a wheelchair. That reminded him of Charles.

He turned briefly to look, but the elevator doors had already closed.

He went on his way, driving a shitty rental car down to where Jeff Cyril lived. He waited until he could find parking right up against the house. There were no cameras on this street, which made his job easier.

As the bus came trundling down the street, Erik got out of the car, and got ready. Cyril hopped off at his stop, and began the short walk back to his home. Erik watched him walk past, and then said, ‘Sorry, sir, do you have the time?’

As Cyril looked up, Erik hit him at the back of the head and caught him just before he fell. He hauled the man up, threw him into the backseat, and then drove to another location, a steel factory that was owned by Eisenhardt Corp.

To be honest, it was an immense pain operating on his own. Without Emma’s telepathy, or Azazel’s teleportation, or even Raven’s shapeshifting, Erik had to do everything himself, like he was an ordinary human being. Especially since he didn’t have his own abilities at his disposal.

Erik tossed the man over his shoulder and broke the lock in the back with a pair of bolt cutters. He threw the man down on the ground, then settled down to wait.

When he came to, it was with a rather unpleasant yelp that became silent when he saw the gun that Erik held to his head.

‘Who are you?’ the man whispered.

‘Erik Lehnsherr,’ he said. ‘Your ex-employer. I understand however, that you were actually working for Sebastian Shaw. Don’t bother refuting it. We know he transferred $60,000 into your bank account from the Caymans about a year ago. Then you waited eight months to quit your data entry job at my business. Is that about right, or did I get anything wrong?’

‘No,’ Cyril said, in a surprisingly calm voice. ‘You got it all.’

‘Where is Shaw?’ Erik said.

‘I don’t know. We keep in contact over email.’

‘We’ve been tracking the emails. His location is always cloaked, and bounces from place to place. When was the last time you spoke to him?’

‘I’ve never spoken to him. In person. Only on the phone.’

Not another fucking dead end, Erik thought to himself. ‘What did he say to you on the last phone call?’

‘Nothing. He said I was done and he already put in the money. I waited for a while, then I quit and moved back here.’

Erik withdrew the gun slightly, trying to control his anger. He had interrogated enough humans to know that the eyes spoke the truth, every single time. Why was it that he couldn’t even get close to Shaw? Shaw wove such a convoluted web around himself that it was impossible to penetrate.

‘Don’t you want to know why I did it all?’ the man asked.

‘Not really,’ Erik said.

‘You killed my wife,’ the man spat at Erik. ‘Thirteen years ago, you killed my wife because she owed money to Shaw. She had a gambling problem, but she didn’t deserve to die. Shaw told me that he ordered you to explain to her how to get an extension for the loan. You killed her because you’re a cold blooded monster!’

‘Is that what Shaw told you? And you fucking believed that?’ Erik asked. ‘Did Shaw also tell you that thirteen years ago, he was my boss and he was the one giving me instructions?’

‘You can’t lie to me, Lehnsherr. I know what you do, and I know what you are.’

‘Right. So Shaw paid you to spy on me.’

‘I would have done it gladly even if he hadn’t paid me,’ Cyril said. ‘Fuck you, Lehnsherr. Go to hell.’

Erik raised the gun. ‘I’ll see you soon, then.’ He put a bullet right between the man’s eyes.

It was just as well that his fellow mutants weren’t here, because they would definitely be giving their unsolicited opinions on the mess he had made. Erik sat there, breathing for a couple of moments. Surely something had to give soon. Surely he would find that weak link, the one who knew enough about Shaw’s whereabouts, and was willing to give him up.

He disarmed the gun and tucked it away, then went back out to the car to grab cleaning supplies. He unrolled a black body bag, and began the laborious process of disposing of the body and getting rid of the evidence. It was unlikely that they would ever find him or trace him back here, Erik thought, since the man lived alone and no one was going to make a missing persons report for a while. By then, the evidence would have disappeared into thin air.

It took him a lot longer than he thought it would, and it was close to daybreak when he finally drove back to the hotel, utterly spent from the manual labor. This city did not belong to him, so he was a little more careful, more meticulous than he would usually have been. He washed off all the chemicals on him, and then pulled on some underwear and crashed into bed.

He was right. He had a dreamless, uninterrupted sleep.

It was just past noon when he woke up with a sudden start.

He called for room service, and they brought him a simple meal of toast and eggs. He skimmed through the newspapers for the day, and looked through his emails. Emma seemed to have things under control, as she always did, for the last four days he had been away. He clicked open another email from her, then scoffed silently at the stupid meme she had sent him, comparing him to an angry cat.

They were aware that their official email accounts were being watched closely by the FBI, so they knew not to send anything that could be incriminating over those channels. But they kept up the pretense with regular work emails. Occasionally, like now, Emma Frost enjoyed taking the mickey out of him. She could be such a dick sometimes.

Of all the people he worked with, he trusted Emma the most, which was completely ironic, because while she could read his mind, he could not do the same with her. But he knew that her loyalty to him was unquestionable. It was also strange, because she had been a turncoat, betraying Shaw at a critical juncture to align her loyalties with Erik’s. Maybe it was because he was a traitor himself, he reasoned, and he knew what it would take to turn your back, and bite the hand that fed you. But the fact remained that Emma Frost was unfortunately the best friend he ever had in a world full of people who wanted him dead.

That was it for him in this shithole of a city, he thought to himself. He was ready to head back tonight, since he was already done with what he came for, and had nothing to show for it. Erik got dressed and packed his bag.

He shut the door behind him and walked to the elevator. As he rounded the corner, he saw the elevator doors close just as he was a few steps away. He clenched his jaw. Ordinarily, he would have stopped the closing doors with a flick of his fingers. But in this case, he had to let it go, and wait for the next one.

Three years ago, he told himself he would stop using his powers. He had used it indiscriminately, carelessly, and it had cost him too much. He had made a silent vow to himself that the next time he used it, it would be to kill Shaw.

His fellow mutants of course, did not understand his decision. Emma had ridiculed him more than once for his decision, and Erik couldn’t say he blamed her for it. What human would deny their own natural-born advantages?

But Erik couldn’t explain it. So he didn’t.

He made it down to the lobby, where he settled his room bill with cash. On his way out, he remembered that he actually didn’t drive down, and that he had told the driver to drop him off at the car rental place close to the hotel. Erik sighed. He took out his phone and arranged for a driver to take him back to New York.

While he waited, he sat in the darkened bar lounge, watching the sun dip lower and lower. He ordered a whiskey, while reviewing a couple of contracts that Emma had sent him. He had a perfect view out the gigantic glass windows, and was content to be comfortably ensconced in the curved armchair.

As it got darker, the lounge became busier, and he briefly watched as a young waiter really work for his money as he walked back and forth taking orders. He discreetly appeared at Erik’s elbow, asking, ‘Can I get you anything else, sir?’

Erik looked at the young handsome face, seemingly eager to please. But when he looked closer, he saw that smile was flirtatious, his gaze bold, and his body language denoting attraction. Erik absent-mindedly contemplated it, before turning back to the contracts at hand. ‘I’m fine, thank you.’

Then his phone buzzed, indicating that his car had arrived. He flipped to the final page, wanting to finish it before he moved on.

That hum in his head started up again.

Erik’s senses recognized it as the same vehicle that he had distractedly tracked the night before. The steady stream of electrical current powering the motion of metal was as loud as a shout to his abilities.

So naturally he looked up. And he could he could barely believe his eyes.

There was the figure who plagued his nightmare, teasing him mercilessly as an imagined apparition. He was also the subject of Erik’s dreams, a distant vision of loveliness that he could never reach in his waking life.

Erik blinked. And blinked again.  

He was still there, real, alive, and near enough to touch.

Charles was moving past the bar in his wheelchair, when he slowly pulled to a stop. It was as if he could feel Erik’s stare boring a hole into his back. He cast an eye over the lounge area, when his gaze caught Erik’s.

Erik could see the moment Charles stopped breathing, and he knew Charles was as surprised as he felt right now.

It seemed like an eternity before either of them reacted.

Almost like a dream, Charles turned his wheelchair in Erik’s direction and started coming towards him.

Erik watched Charles carefully, drinking up his appearance. He looked very well. There was a little more color in his face than the last time he saw him in the hospital, and his upper body looked toned and solid, filling out his fitted-shirt nicely. There was a slight curl to his longer hair now, and the little smile on his face spoke of both hesitation and shyness that hadn’t been present before.

But most importantly, there was something in Charles’s face that Erik recognized, because it had eluded himself dearly – peace. Erik was both envious and thankful for it.

‘Charles,’ Erik whispered, when he was close enough.

‘Hello, Erik,’ Charles said, and his voice was just as Erik remembered it. Crisp, warm, and measured.

‘You’re looking very well,’ Erik said.

‘Thank you,’ Charles said, then carefully examined Erik. ‘You’ve lost weight, Erik.’

Erik shrugged. He stood up to embrace Charles, who opened his arms and enveloped Erik in a hug.

Erik actually felt like he had been hit by a thunderbolt. He was stunned, in complete disbelief, and at a loss for words, which was an unusual situation for him. Now that he had Charles within reach, he didn’t know what to do.

‘Could we … talk?’ Erik asked, desperate for Charles to say yes, desperate to keep Charles with him. The world could go fuck itself for all Erik cared. Charles was here now.

Charles looked hesitant. ‘Of course, of course. Sorry, give me a minute here. I’m just feeling incredibly shocked. I wasn’t expecting to see you here, of all places.’

Erik moved back slightly. ‘I am too,’ he admitted.

Charles reached into his wallet in his bag and pulled out a key card and slipped it in Erik’s pants pocket. He could feel the magnetized strip practically burning a hole against his thigh. ‘I have a room upstairs. We can talk privately in there. Could you … give me a couple of minutes? I just need to process this.’

‘Take as long as you need to,’ Erik said. ‘I have to … I have to make a call. I’ll be up in a moment.’

Charles headed for the elevators, casting one last look at Erik before he wheeled off.

Erik sat back down, feeling almost light-headed. He picked up the contracts that he had dropped onto the floor and stashed them back in his bag. Then remembered that the driver was waiting for him. He shot off a quick text to cancel that, and then got up, in a haste to follow Charles.

But Charles needed some time, so Erik sat down again.

He looked around, a little confused, trying to straighten his head. Right. The check. He signaled for the waiter, then tossed down a bill that put a wide grin on the waiter’s face.

Erik stood up, feeling the card sing in his pocket.


	5. Chapter 5

Charles wheeled back to his room, wondering why he had gone down to the hotel lounge in the first place. He had wanted something that wasn’t from the minibar and a little live music to help ease the Thursday evening away. He had just moved past the bar when there was that strange sensation again. That unease that was his sixth sense telling him that something was out of place. He was just beginning to scan the place when it occurred to him the last time he felt like that was when he first met–  

Then he saw Erik. And all his thoughts were swept away in a deluge.

It actually took an incredibly long, excruciating moment to process what was happening. There was Erik Lehnsherr, in the flesh, after nearly three years. The last time he had seen him was a shared moment in the dark, a clasping of hands, a painful farewell, a parting of the ways. He remembered thinking that he could take nothing with him except the memory of Erik’s lingering scent.

He turned and made his way to Erik, and exchanged some meaningless pleasantries on auto-pilot. But when Erik stood up to embrace Charles, the full memory of their last encounter was retrieved from deep within his memory banks, triggered, once again, by the scent of the man that he had loved so dearly.

Charles buried his nose in what used to be his favorite spot of Erik’s – the sinewy curve between neck and shoulder – and he inhaled that intoxicating combination of soap and aftershave and cologne that was particular only to Erik, a sort of Eau de Erik if you will. One sniff and Charles could lose his goddamn mind. The pull of desire was instantaneous and deep in his belly.

Erik was still the only person who could do this to him.

He vaguely remembered slipping his key card into Erik’s pocket. He was feeling a little embarrassed at the prurient insinuation of his actions – he really only meant to give them both a private space, away from prying eyes, in case their exchange got too emotional. And if he was really frank with himself, he wanted another moment to embrace Erik again.

He wheeled around the bed to the window seat, where he tried to give his heart a chance to calm so it wouldn’t beat its way out of his chest. He opened his mind, trying to process the circumstances in the small amount of time before Erik came in and blew his mind again.

Fate was a tricky bitch.

He turned just as he heard the click at the front door. Why did he even give Erik a card? Erik could have gotten in on his own anyway.

He did not expect Erik to come through the doorway, making like a wolf heading for its prey, his presence ominous and reckless and hungry, desperately reaching for Charles. His arms trapped Charles in the wheelchair itself, pressing insistently into him until he was out of breath, and there was no way out but to surrender.

Charles had never known Erik to be so aggressive in his approach. Erik’s tongue licked at him, his mouth plundering what Charles had to give. But Charles put up no resistance either. As soon as he smelled Erik’s scent again, he plunged into the heady throes of an addiction that he had never really quit.

Charles’s hands curled over Erik’s arms, held on, as Erik bent, lifted him up. Erik’s hand swept underneath Charles’s bottom, and he felt a frisson of excitement, a shallow pleasure that teased his sluggish nerves awake. His body began to slowly respond to that distant, otherworldly pleasure.

Over the years of endless follow up appointments he had discovered from the doctors that his injury had been incomplete, a small mercy from the universe that had decided to fuck him over without even a how-do-you-do. The ability to hold an erection and orgasm was not beyond him, although it took considerably more effort and concentration than it used to.

Erik laid him on the bed gently, as if he was a fragile thing that could break at any minute. But Charles was not, had never been. He fisted his hands into Erik’s jacket, and brought him closer until he was practically on top of Charles, straddling him. Charles kissed him long and hard and fiercely, wordlessly trying to convey to Erik all the longing that had built up for the last three years.

But Erik seemed determined to take his time. Charles gripped Erik’s shirt and ripped them into opposite directions, and the shirt tore open, buttons flying. The unexpected violence actually shocked the both of them, and Erik took the cue and responded in kind, punishing Charles’s mouth until he felt swollen and bruised from the assault.

His hand moved downwards to Erik’s fly, and in one smooth move freed Erik’s cock, curving towards Charles in anticipation, hard and unyielding as iron. When Charles touched Erik, he could feel Erik hissing and bucking once, grinding mindlessly against Charles’s groin.

He didn’t have to see Erik’s face to sense his hesitation. ‘Can I … may I?’ His hand hovered over Charles’s pants.

‘Yes, of course,’ Charles gasped. ‘But it may take a while.’

‘I don’t care if it takes forever,’ Erik said. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’

Somewhere in Charles’s mind he reminded himself that they needed to talk, not fuck. The sex had always been the easiest aspect of their relationship. But it was a fleeting thought that disappeared as soon as it materialized. Blood rushed to his head as Erik began caressing his partial erection, and all Charles could think of was that he wanted Erik’s hands on every single inch of his skin.

Charles redoubled his grip on Erik’s cock, doubling down on the pressure and motion as he ran his hand along the shaft, feeling Erik’s every contraction of his muscles and rapid intake of breath. He could distantly feel Erik’s hand on him, and Charles closed his eyes and leaned in to the sensation, concentrating on every single riff that came through the damaged nerves, relieved to feel that the pressure was slowly building.

He knew Erik’s control and endurance were being put to the test severely, but it was totally worth it when Charles felt the climax building, and his body stiffened in response to the onslaught of the hard-earned pleasure that rocked through him. He felt Erik jerk in his grip, then a slick arc of come painted their bellies, as if laying claim to the territory on each other now that the dance was over.

Charles breathed hard, waiting for the veil to lift. He reached out to caress Erik’s worn features. His index finger traced a solitary path from above Erik’s knitted brow, down past his inky eyelashes, the traverse of his cheekbones, down his chiseled jaw, and across his Adam’s apple and the curve of his collarbone, when Erik recovered enough to close over Charles’s finger with his fist. ‘Don’t you ever leave me again,’ Erik said.

Charles’s finger stilled. ‘You know why I had to,’ he said quietly.

‘I know,’ Erik said. ‘It doesn’t mean that I liked it.’

‘Erik …’ Charles began.

‘You belong with me,’ Erik said, almost defiantly, with clear conviction, as if it was a fact.

Charles’s eyes drank in Erik’s careworn features, and saw the new lines that had appeared in that handsome face that wasn’t present three years ago. He wondered if he was the one who put them there. ‘You look a lot thinner, Erik,’ he said. ‘And older.’

‘Why, thank you,’ Erik said.

‘You look like you haven’t been sleeping well,’ Charles remarked. He noticed the way that Erik evaded the question by carefully rolling off Charles.

‘I’ve been busy with work,’ Erik said vaguely.

Charles nodded, suddenly awkward for having broached a topic he didn’t even want to go near. ‘I guess … we should talk.’ He noticed Erik trying to button up his shirt, but the buttons had been ripped off. ‘Sorry about your shirt.’

Erik sat down heavily next to Charles. ‘I need you to promise me something first, Charles. Please don’t run away.’

Charles brushed a tendril of hair off Erik’s forehead. ‘I stopped running a long time ago,’ he said. ‘Both literally and metaphorically. If you want to talk, I’m open to that. I’ll be here for the next few days at least. What about you?’

‘I can stay,’ Erik said. ‘I have nowhere to go.’

‘Erik,’ Charles started. ‘This is dangerous.’

‘What’s between us isn’t done, not at all. I won’t spend another three years not having you in my life, Charles. I won’t. I can’t,’ Erik said, and Charles knew that that was as close he could get to Erik being completely honest with him. ‘It took everything I had not to come after you, Charles. I knew you needed time and space. But seeing you right now makes me realize that I just can’t do it anymore. I won’t stay out of your life.’

Charles put a palm up against Erik’s face. ‘We have to talk,’ he said honestly. There was just so much history between him and Erik that it would be foolhardy to promise something he could not deliver. Yet it was clear that there was still a powerful attraction between him and Erik, and he was right. They were not done with each other, not by a long shot.

So Charles said, ‘Why don’t we get cleaned up and have something to eat? I had dinner, but I’m still hungry. I’ve always wanted to try to Japanese restaurant downstairs. I heard that they have disability-friendly spaces in there. Part of the reason why I chose this hotel in the first place.’

Charles let Erik clean up first, and while Charles was taking care of his own needs, he heard Erik pop out for about twenty minutes before coming back in again. He was probably getting hold of one of his ridiculously expensive suits.

But when Charles came out of the bathroom, the sight of Erik put a grin on his face. He was dressed in a plain black shirt over jeans. The shirt molded itself to Erik’s every curve, which Charles enjoyed in a visual way. But clearly, the sentiment had not extended to Erik, who looked a little uncomfortable about his choice of attire, and he apologized.

‘I wasn’t planning to stay more than a few days, so I don’t have any more clean things left.’

Charles pulled on a cardigan. Erik lifted a brow but said nothing.

Instead, he leaned down to plant a peck on Charles’s mouth, but it soon devolved into a kiss, and then suddenly, he found that Erik’s tongue was tangling with his a little too enthusiastically. He held one hand up against Erik’s chest and broke away. ‘Erik, we were going to go downstairs. To eat.’

‘I want you, Charles,’ Erik said, his intense gaze burning a hole in Charles’s gut, churning up anticipation and desire and the carnal pleasure of being so wanted and needed by this man. ‘I’ve always wanted you, and I honestly don’t know how I’ve gone three years on my own.’

‘Erik …’

‘We don’t have to go downstairs. We can just stay up here, order in.’

Charles sighed. ‘We need to go downstairs right now before you maul me again and we end up fucking instead of talking. We need to talk.’

‘I changed my mind,’ Erik said, pressing his mouth against Charles’s neck and sending shivers down his body.

It took everything Charles had in reserve to snap out of it. ‘Erik, we need to establish some boundaries, at least!’ he said.

That broke Erik’s single-minded pursuit. He stopped, and broke out into a weird sort of laughter. Hesitant at first, then full-bodied and throaty, seemingly coming from within deep inside of Erik. It was like he had forgotten how to laugh before this and had just learned how to again. ‘I can’t believe it,’ he said.

‘What?’ Charles asked, gently amused despite himself.

‘This. You always wanting to establish boundaries. Then us crossing them regardless.’

‘That was probably how things ended up so badly,’ Charles said quietly.

The change within Erik was lightning-quick. ‘No, that wasn’t it. It ended badly because I made poor decisions. And because of a mad man.’

Charles glanced at Erik’s set expression, and realized the hard stuff was ahead of them. ‘Let’s just adjourn to the restaurant, Erik. I’m afraid if we’re in my room we’ll either end up having sex or screaming at each other. Shall we?’

Erik nodded slightly.

They went down the hallway and the elevator in silence. Charles noticed that Erik had one hand on his wheelchair at all times, as if Charles was going to bolt at any given minute.

‘I’ve heard good things about this place,’ Charles said as he rolled out onto level three when the doors opened. ‘Do you like Japanese food, Erik?’

Erik shrugged. They walked up to the hostess, who was looking at her reservation list. She looked up. ‘Good evening, gentlemen. I’m afraid that the restaurant has closed for the night,’ she said.

‘Oh,’ Charles said in dismay. ‘It’s only half-ten.’

‘We close at ten on weekdays,’ she said pleasantly.

Charles turned to Erik, and said, ‘Never mind then. We can find somewhere else.’ He turned to wheel away, but realized Erik wasn’t following him. He turned around to see Erik peeling bills from his wallet.

He goggled.

Erik slid the cash over to the hostess. ‘I’ll triple that for the chef and manager if you can extend your … hours of operation.’

The hostess openly stared at the pile of money in front of her. She reached out and pocketed it in one very smooth move. ‘This way, sirs.’

Charles followed silently from behind.

They had their pick of the empty restaurant. Charles wheeled down the extra spacious walkways, happily settled on a small cozy table, with one side especially reserved for wheelchairs, and a notch to lock it in for additional security. Erik took a chair opposite him. The hostess served them menus and hot cups of green tea.

Charles looked up from under his lashes at Erik. ‘How much did you bribe her?’

Erik flipped through the menu nonchalantly. ‘Enough to stay open. What are you in the mood for?’

‘Erik,’ Charles chided.

Erik answered without even looking at him. ‘It’s just money.’

Charles decided not to pursue it. He lifted his expensive-looking bound menu, and skimmed through the items. They had fallen into a familiar pattern very quickly, which was both a surprise and not.

When the hostess returned, Charles ordered for the both of them. Food and drink was a very necessary lubricant to whatever conversation they had next. When she left, Charles forced himself to relax against his seat.

‘Did you know where I was, Erik?’

‘Yes,’ Erik said. ‘Westchester.’

‘Raven told you.’

‘No. I knew she wouldn’t tell me. I ran a check on you and discovered that your vast estate wealth enabled you to run to multiple places. But when there was activity at Westchester that made it the most logical location. I didn’t go there out of respect for what you wanted, Charles. But I see that the last three years have treated you well. You look healthy, strong. Confident. I’m glad for it.’

‘I can’t say the same for you,’ Charles said softly, honestly. He noticed the ring on Erik’s finger. It had once sat on his own finger. It softened his heart a little, but he was not about to admit it.

‘I don’t blame you,’ Erik said. ‘Sleep seems to enjoy eluding me, even on days where I’m exhausted to my bones.’

‘How’s the family?’ Charles asked.

‘Good. My mother still strong like an ox, and chauffeurs the children back and forth, spends time cooking or gardening. The twins are eight now, nearly nine. And David is six?’

‘Next week,’ Charles said, beaming at the thought of his little boy, now not so little anymore. ‘He’s doing wonderfully. I was worried about the homeschooling part for him, but well, looks like he enjoys it, as well as the company of the older children at the academy. Were you aware …?’

‘That you now run the Xavier Academy for Higher Learning? Of course. I think it’s a wonderful thing that you’re doing there, Charles. A school for mutants, helping them hone their abilities. I would kill for that kind of schooling when I was growing up.’

‘Ah well,’ Charles said, suddenly shy. ‘We’ve only been operating for a year and a bit. We seem to be quite lucky so far.’ Then he spotted the light in Erik’s eyes. ‘No, Erik. I know what you’re thinking,’ Charles started.

‘You can’t really stop me,’ Erik said. ‘If I wanted to enroll my children in your academy. They are mutants after all.’

‘They are?’ Charles asked, puzzled. ‘They weren’t the last time I met them.’

‘It’s been three years,’ Erik reminded him. ‘I’ve seen bits of their abilities emerge. I’m fairly certain they’re mutants.’

‘Alright,’ Charles said hesitantly. ‘Enlighten me.’

‘Peter’s mutation is fairly obvious. Speed. He moves quickly.’

‘An athletic boy is not necessarily a mutant who has powers of super speed.’

‘Last year I got called in to the principal’s office because Peter placed a Whoopee cushion on his teacher’s chair.’

‘That’s … normal childhood behavior. Cheeky lad, though.’

‘He also did it to another teacher in the next room. And to four other teachers in the same grade, so he could coordinate farts, apparently,’ Erik said with a straight face.

‘Right.’

‘He did it all at the same time,’ Erik finished.

‘Oh,’ Charles said, then couldn’t help but chuckle a little. ‘Definitely a mutant.’

‘Yes, my son, he’s hilarious,’ Erik said, almost wryly. ‘Wanda, on the other hand, is serious, sweet, and bossy. She’s generally very even-tempered, but when she lost it once, everything in the room was destroyed. It hasn’t happened since then, she’s been more careful. But I’m sure there’s a mutation there that’s not ready to come out.’

‘It’s very likely,’ Charles said.

‘And what better way to ensure their training goes well than to send them to the best teacher I know?’ Erik asked.

‘No, Erik. Don’t use your children’s schooling as an excuse so you can stay close to me,’ Charles warned.

Erik shrugged. ‘See if you can stop me,’ he said almost petulantly. Then he stopped when the hostess served them their dishes. It was a gorgeous feast of colors, served on dainty blue and white porcelain. The raw tuna was a bold red, and the salmon bright orange, sliced with precision. Tender pieces of chicken were doused in a sticky sweet sauce and coated with a sprinkle of white sesame seeds, and chunks of beef marinated and seared on the sides.

Charles sampled the dishes, and declared them perfect. They shared the food comfortably, which added up to the evening’s general bizarreness. Charles couldn’t reconcile the two – earlier in the evening, he was still alone, completely unaware of Erik’s physical proximity to him. And now, they were sated, eating together, exchanging small talk, as if the last three years hadn’t even happened.

But Charles soon realized that it was a façade, for neither of them wanted to really speak about the most important issues, as if in fear that they would ruin this strange, but lovely night.

As they came to the end of the meal, Charles steeled his guts and opened his mouth.

‘Erik, I don’t think we can go back to the way we were.’

‘Why not?’ Erik asked.

‘Why?’ Charles spluttered. ‘Because everything has changed. Things can’t be the same anymore.’

‘I know they have changed,’ Erik said. ‘You once said you had to go away to learn how to live your life with your … injury. You have. You’ve done so beautifully. I never thought I would be able to see you again, and look at you in the eyes, not after what I’ve done. I dreamt of it almost every night for three years, Charles.’

‘It’s –’

‘I’m not looking for pity, Charles,’ Erik cut him off. ‘It’s the truth. I did it. It was my fault. I robbed you of your life.’

‘Erik, I don’t blame you. I know it was an accident. And I’ve had my fair share of struggles. I have my good days and bad days too.’

‘I thought you would hate me,’ Erik said, very quietly now.

‘I could never hate you,’ Charles whispered. ‘I look into your eyes and I see remorse in them. You don’t have to keep tearing yourself apart, Erik. I’ve made peace with my loss. I’ve moved on. You have to move on too.’

‘I’m trying,’ Erik said simply. ‘But I find it impossible to do so without you in my life.’

Charles toyed with the hem of the napkin in his lap.

‘It’s been three years. If you can forgive me for causing you this injury, won’t you consider having me back in your life?’ Erik asked, raw emotion making his voice low and husky.

Charles had, in fact, considered it many, many times within the last three years. And Charles didn’t know if he could, or could not. Erik saw the doubt in his eyes.

‘You don’t have to make a decision tonight,’ Erik said. ‘We can just take it one day at a time. Stay with me. See how you feel about it. I just want you back in my life, Charles. And I will wait for as long as it takes.’

Charles hesitated. He knew he had complicated matters when he had willingly thrown himself into sex with Erik. But gods above, he was so helplessly attracted to the man. Erik Lehnsherr had particular pheromones that was designed to make Charles lose his head, and fail to think clearly. It was as if Erik was a magnet, and Charles was a piece of ferromagnetic metal. The attraction was powerfully irresistible, hopelessly inescapable.

Still, Erik’s suggestion of taking it one day at a time wouldn’t hurt. Would it?


	6. Chapter 6

Erik could always sense weakness.

He didn’t know if he had a natural born sense for it, or Shaw had hammered it into him in all his years of being Shaw’s protégé and golden boy. But he could instinctively tell when there was an opening, a weakness in the fabric, and it was in him to always take advantage of it, to pounce when the opportunity presented itself. It had been drilled into him, that to not take advantage of an apparent weakness was the worst thing you could do. That was the natural order of things. The strong overcame the weak, and the strongest sat on top of the food chain. And those who were at the top always got what they wanted.

It had served him well throughout his life, and had a lot to do with his success in business. Take for instance, the department of mergers and acquisitions at his company. The title itself was a misconception. There were more acquisitions than mergers in the history of Eisenhardt Corp. Erik would set his sights on a particular company – usually small, poorly managed, failing – then set his dogs to find the weakest part of the fabric. It could be discrepancies in the accounts, poor management, or cash flow issues, or just even a shitty year with bad luck. Once found, Erik’s company tore through them like scissors on perforated paper, bought them for the lowest possible price, trimmed the fat and turned it around to make a profit.

And Erik used the same approach with Charles, because that was what he knew. He could sense that Charles was weakening against Erik’s bullish offensive, and instead of backing off, Erik pressed harder, taking every inch of ground that Charles would yield. And as long as Charles allowed it to happen, Erik would push his luck.

That night after they shared the meal together at the hotel restaurant, Erik had accompanied Charles back up to his room. But Charles did not tell him to go. So Erik stayed. He pretended not to see Charles’s uncertainty as Erik slid into the bed next to him. But he waited quietly for an objection that did not happen. And when Charles turned towards him, Erik reached out and trapped him in his arms. When Charles did not stop him, Erik closed his eyes.

And he slept like the dead.

Sometime near dawn, he blinked open his eyes, staring at the watery light streaming through the thick hotel room curtains, momentarily wondering where he was. But he felt the warm body pressed against him, the steady, light quiet snores that came from Charles and Erik could feel his muscles begin to relax one by one.

He propped himself up on his elbow and pushed back the fitted sheet and the heavy duvet, so that he could see Charles’s sleeping body a little more clearly. His fingers trailed down his arm, and then skipped over to his waist, before pressing more insistently along his hipbone. Was this where Charles couldn’t feel a thing?

Erik’s hands trailed downwards, towards his thighs, and his calves, where the atrophied muscles were beginning to waste away, leaving them unused and thin, having lost all muscle tone and movement.

He bent his head down to kiss Charles’s thigh, whispering a prayer to an unknown deity inside his heart. He prayed for peace for himself, for he knew he could never surmount this on his own. It was much bigger than himself, the remorse and regret and contrition and the guilt. Suddenly overwhelmed, he pressed his eyes against the unmoving muscle and fought against the too-familiar tide of emotion that threatened to break through.

But there was no use. His reunion with Charles had taken a massive toll on his self-control. He realized, in shock and horror, that the spot on Charles’s thigh where he had lain was slick with tears. But it was also a small mercy that Charles could not feel it. He would never cry in front of Charles.

Just as he was swallowing back his sobs, he felt Charles’s hand move in the dark, and come to rest on top of Erik’s head. His fingers were gentle as they brushed against his scalp, tenderly tugging strands of hair as he patted his head twice. Erik didn’t dare find out if Charles was awake, or merely responding in his sleep. So he buried his face against Charles’s waist, curled an arm over him, and went back to sleep.

When dawn turned into day, Erik awoke on the sheets alone. His first instinct was to throw out his senses, feeling for every piece of metal in the room, with barely concealed panic. When he found Charles’s wheelchair in the front room, he pulled back, relieved.

Then he got out of bed and started his day. Without his usual morning run, he felt tired and groggy. But the shower woke him up, as did the breakfast tray that was already waiting for him next to Charles’s finished one. He sat in front of the television, drinking a cup of coffee.

‘Good morning,’ Charles said. ‘I’ve got an appointment today here in the city, meeting one of my prospective students. Probably a couple of hours, at best.’

‘I’ll be here when you return,’ Erik said.

Charles watched him carefully before he put his cup down. Erik knew he was about to say something, some worry that had been manufactured by that massive brain of his. So he pounced first. ‘One day at a time, Charles. There’s no point worrying. I’ll see you when you get back.’

Charles didn’t need to know that Erik would be spending his time wisely digging in, building a heavier anchor so that Charles would find it increasingly difficult to walk away. Erik strode over to Charles, and planted a quick kiss against his mouth. Then he backed up and sat down to his breakfast, the whole time watching Charles getting ready to go out, seemingly flustered but trying hard not to show it.

‘Well then …’ Charles said. ‘See you.’

He said it with so much hesitation and unsureness and just a little hope at the end that Erik knew that he had managed to get through the tiny chink in Charles’s armor.

When the door closed behind him, Erik flipped to the news and kept an eye on it as he called up his assistant and told her to pack him some clothes and to send it to him by that afternoon. He cancelled all his standing appointments for the next few days, and told her to courier some documents to him along with the clothes.

His phone buzzed. He looked down at it, grimaced slightly, and answered the call, but put it on speakerphone. Which was the right choice to make, because when Emma Frost launched an opening salvo, it was with the intention of deafening him.

‘What the fuck are you doing, Lehnsherr?’

‘Emma …’

‘Why the fuck are you still in Philadelphia? You left a message that you would be returning yesterday evening, and now I hear from your assistant you’re staying there for a few more days? For an indefinite period of time? What’s going on?’

‘I’m taking a vacation.’

He could only describe the silence on the other end as stunned and derisive, both at the same time.

‘Don’t read my mind, Emma,’ Erik warned.

‘I just wanted to check if you’ve lost it,’ she said. ‘Either that, or a shapeshifter is pretending to be you. Is that you, Raven?’ Emma shouted down the phone. ‘Did you kill Erik and hide the body?’

‘Stop shouting already,’ Erik said. ‘Listen, why is it so hard to understand that I’m taking a few days off to relax? I really like this … hotel. You book good hotels, Emma.’

‘Yeah, sugar? You enjoying the infinity pool? How about the spa? And the bar with the in-house sommelier curating a customized wine menu for you? What exactly are you enjoying about the hotel, Erik?’

‘The … Japanese restaurant downstairs.’

Now the silence was almost deafening.

‘Right now, I’ve got a meeting to attend. I will call you back this evening. You better have a good story to tell me about why you’re staying there, or I will come down and take a look for myself.’ She hung up on him.

Erik got up to push the breakfast tray out of the room when there was a blast and the smell of sulfur. Erik groaned and turned to face Emma and Azazel.

‘Just kidding,’ Emma said, her arms crossed over her ample chest. ‘I’m desperately curious to see what you’re up to.’

Behind her, Azazel silently mouthed an apology, and shrugged his arms.

Emma took a turn inside the living room. ‘This isn’t the room we booked for you,’ she said immediately. As she tried to walk past him and into the bedroom, Erik placed a hand around her tiny waist, stopping her from moving forward. ‘Don’t,’ he said.

Emma turned to him.

‘I promise you nothing bad or untoward is happening. I will be back in a few days.’

‘Whose room is this, Erik?’ Emma asked.

Erik shook his head. ‘I’m fine.’

‘You know I can find out the occupant of this room in all of five seconds,’ she said.

‘I know you can. I’m asking you not to,’ Erik said.

‘The last time you were involved with someone, it was a car wreck,’ Emma warned. ‘And before that, Magda. You stop thinking with your brain and you start thinking with your dick.’

‘His heart, Emma,’ Azazel said, correcting her.

She ignored him. ‘I really don’t want that happening again. We can’t afford that, not right now.’

‘Emma,’ Azazel said again, now putting a hand on her shoulder. ‘Erik knows what to do. He’s a grown man.’

She glowered at him, and he knew the conversation wasn’t finished. But she took a step back, and said, ‘Be careful, Erik. We don’t want you hurt again.’ She took Azazel’s hand, and they teleported away.

Erik understood his friend’s concern. But he knew something had changed. He wasn’t going to allow the people he cared for to be hurt again. This time, he would protect them, shield them, save them, no matter what it took. And he would redouble his efforts to hunt down Shaw. But he just wanted a few days to himself, to be selfish. To be just Charles’s Erik, not the Erik that walked further down the path of revenge. He didn’t realize how tired he was of that persona until he could become someone different with Charles.

He didn’t care if there would be hell to pay later. He thought about explaining the situation to Emma. And for fuck’s sake, to Raven. He knew she would have a few choice words about his decision to go after her brother again.

Erik called for housekeeping, and while they cleaned up he took a stroll down to the pool while he waited for Charles.

Charles was in fantastic mood when he returned. ‘I’ve managed to convince her to enroll at the Academy. She’ll be heading to Westchester in a few weeks.’

‘You’re excited.’

‘I’ve never worked with anyone with her mutation. She’s been very sad, very lonely. I think she would be happier if she could coexist with her unusual abilities. And that’s my job to help her, of course.’

‘Perhaps we could go out to celebrate your success?’ Erik asked.

Charles turned to him, a cautious grin on his face. ‘What are you proposing?’

‘It’s early yet,’ Erik said. ‘We could go out for a celebratory lunch after visiting a famous landmark, perhaps.’ He pointed to the brochures that sat on the writing desk.

‘You want to do something touristy?’ Charles asked, almost disbelievingly.

Not really, Erik thought. But he would use any excuse to keep himself glued to Charles’s side. ‘Why not?’ Erik asked. ‘I haven’t seen anything yet.’

‘Been busy with business?’ Charles asked, both cagey and transparent at the same time.

‘Yes,’ Erik said. ‘I’ve concluded a deal recently, although not as satisfyingly as yours.’

‘I see,’ Charles said. ‘Have you see the Liberty Bell? Sounds like it’s up your alley.’

Twenty minutes later, Erik and Charles stood in front of the bell, and Charles was cheerfully regaling him with the entire history of the bell, how it was casted, why it was casted, so on and so forth. Erik had tuned out the moment Charles started prattling on. The man was like a human Wikipedia, Erik thought. All he could think was his senses were reacting towards all the metal in the giant cracked bell. A slight touch at his hand shifted his attention. ‘Shall we?’ Charles asked brightly, eager to move on to the next historical artifact. Charles’s hand slipped away, but Erik’s reacted quickly and held his firmly in his grip.

Charles looked at their intertwined hands. Then he gave Erik’s hand a squeeze, and tried to ease it out of his grip. Erik allowed him to, subtly changing directions to place his hand behind Charles’s shoulder. ‘Shall we look into lunch, Charles?’

They found a little restaurant with an outside patio, and a little table that Charles could pull up to without blocking any access. Once they ordered, Erik pushed his sunglasses off his eyes and looked at Charles, who stared back at him impassively from behind his own Ray-Bans.

‘When do you plan to return to Westchester?’

‘I’ll probably pay Anna one more visit, just to answer any remaining questions she has. After that, I’m pretty much heading home. I’ve got David’s birthday party to organize next weekend.’ Charles scrutinized Erik’s expression. ‘No, Erik. I’m not inviting you to my child’s birthday party. Forget it.’

Erik shrugged good-naturedly. ‘I wasn’t expecting you to say yes anyway. So you’re going back … tomorrow? Not going to stay for the entire weekend?’

Charles peered at Erik, then almost teasingly, he said, ‘Why? Did you want me to stay?’

‘I want you to stay with me, and I’m not talking just this weekend,’ Erik said, and his blatant straight-faced honesty made Charles look away.

Then he turned back to Erik, and taking a leaf out of Erik’s book, said with barely a preamble, ‘And how are your plans for vengeance going?’

Touché, Erik thought.

‘I don’t have him yet,’ Erik admitted.

Charles lowered his gaze. ‘I thought so. You would be at my doorstep if you had already dealt with him.’ He shook his head. ‘Erik, I don’t know if this is going to work out.’

‘Why? Regardless of whether Shaw is still in the way, he will never, ever come near you again. I’ll make sure of that. What’s stopping you?’

‘You,’ Charles said simply. ‘I’ve changed, but you’ve remained the same.’

And the convivial atmosphere between them suddenly dropped, leaving only an awkward, almost confrontational tension.

‘That’s not true, and you don’t even know the half of it.’ Erik yanked the sunglasses off his head, and tossed them across the table. ‘I have changed everything for you, Charles. But don’t ask me to give up the one thing that I can’t give up on.’

‘That’s the problem, Erik,’ Charles said, heatedly now. ‘You’re dead set on getting your revenge, you don’t care who you hurt. I would have thought what happened to me was a lesson to you.’

‘And I live with it every day of my life. Shaw destroyed my life, several times over. He owes me, and I will make him pay. Nothing can change that. I won’t rest until he’s dead.’

‘I can’t live in your hate,’ Charles said. ‘I can’t live my life like that.’

‘I’m not asking you to. Shaw can’t elude me forever.’

Charles shook his head, slowly now, resignedly. ‘Erik, you have to let go of the past. You can’t be beholden to it for the rest of your life.’

‘Charles, I have done everything I can to prepare for a life with you in the future. There is nothing that cannot be sacrificed towards it. But do not ask me to give up Shaw. I will not. I cannot. This decision is not open for discussion.’

Charles leaned back in his wheelchair. He pulled off his own sunglasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

‘You said you loved me,’ Erik said.

‘I did.’

‘Do you still feel that way?’

Charles stared at Erik for a full minute. ‘Yes, I think so. But in the past three years I’ve learned valuable lessons about myself. One of them is that I am perfectly capable of being content and happy, even without you in my life.’

That stung, but Erik refused to acknowledge it and he shouldered on instead. ‘Do you still love me despite the fact we disagree?’

‘Erik, this is not like having differences in cultural backgrounds, or belief systems. Like I’m Catholic and you’re Jewish. Or you want children and I don’t. It isn’t like that. This … disagreement goes beyond that.’

‘Then tell me,’ Erik said. ‘Explain to me why it’s so different.’

Charles carefully folded his napkin again and placed it back on his lap. To buy time, and patience. ‘I’m not going to have an argument with you right now when you’re being this unreasonable.’

Their food was served, and they ate in icy silence.

Erik called for the check, and as he was about to take out his wallet, Charles beat him to it. He yanked his card out and tossed it onto the tray. Erik glanced at it, and carefully put cash down in the tray, returning Charles’s card to him.

Charles glared at Erik, then snatched it out of his hand and practically threw it down in the tray again, and took Erik’s cash and pushed it across the table. Erik took it after a long, stony silence.

They went for a stroll after lunch, but in truth, it was more like an angry walk to calm down. Erik could feel his feet pounding the pavement as if they held a grudge.

Sightseeing while still pissed off at each other was a rather interesting experience. He could feel Charles next to him, practically vibrating with displeasure, but trying to rise above it. His exchanges with Erik attempted to be pleasant and neutral but would emerge clipped and curt, whereas Erik himself chose not to say anything at all.

They maneuvered carefully around the Christ Church burial ground, and visited Benjamin Franklin’s grave. Charles rummaged through his bag for pennies, but couldn’t find any. Erik offered him two pennies in his palm. Charles grumbled quietly, but took them.

The tension between them was unbearable. Charles looked tired, and Erik was ready to return to the relative safety of the hotel room. At first, Charles drove in silence. Erik closed his eyes and laid his head against the head rest.

‘Erik,’ Charles said.

Erik lifted his head and opened his eyes.

‘Do you understand that I have never known the full extent of your “business” activities? I have never once tried to find out, and I still don’t know anything about it. You have explained it to me once, and I had to honestly ask myself if I was all right with that. I reasoned to myself that while I would never agree to what you were doing, I could still love you. Because I loved Erik Lehnsherr, not the CEO of Eisenhardt Corp. But I realize now that these two aren’t mutually exclusive? You are one and the same.’

‘I am more than my business,’ Erik said neutrally, calmly. ‘It’s just another way of paying the bills.’

Charles snorted. ‘Really? I can think of a million other ways to bring home the bacon.’

‘Are you saying that I’m not worthy of loving because of what I choose to do in my work?’

‘No, that’s not what I’m saying at all,’ Charles said. ‘Don’t try to turn this around on me.’

‘That’s exactly what you’re saying, Charles. And I understand. Which is why I’ve started converting the, shall we say, more questionable parts of my enterprise into perfectly legal entities, above the law and beyond reproach. It’s been a long, painful, extremely expensive journey,’ Erik said.

He could tell that this information had come as a shock to Charles.

The ensuing silence was enough to have Erik wondering if what he was doing was enough of a game changer to get Charles to stay with him at this stage.

They were almost at the hotel when Charles spoke again. ‘I … appreciate your efforts, Erik. One of the reasons why I left was because I didn’t want my child or myself ever being put in danger again. Yours is a worthy and lofty goal, but it certainly doesn’t take away that risk for us.’

Charles’s slight hesitation was enough to give Erik hope, and further resolve. ‘It will, once Shaw is out of the way.’

‘Right. Shaw again,’ Charles said, sarcastically. ‘Honestly, you’re obsessed with the man. Don’t you understand, Erik? You won’t stop once you have Shaw. There’s always going to be something else, someone else. It will never end, unless you let it.’ He pulled into the front of the hotel, and unlocked his wheelchair. He left the engine running, handing the car over to the valet.

Erik unbuckled his seat belt, and got out of the car just to watch Charles speed up the ramp rather irritably. He followed him all the way to the elevators, where he just barely managed to jump in before the doors closed. Charles was in a very foul mood.

‘You’re wrong. It started with Shaw. It will end with him. I have no desire to kill anyone else other than Shaw. Do you not see, Charles? I cannot live in peace while he remains out there, alive. He can come for me and my loved ones, at any given moment. He has to die. There is no other way.’

When they were inside the room, Charles turned to him. ‘You are such a bloody stubborn fucking idiot, Erik Lehnsherr.’

Erik let the door close behind him. He leaned down and kissed Charles softly, on the lips. ‘I know. I’m sorry.’ He felt Charles’s hands encircle his neck, and then Erik felt him grip tighter as he lifted his body out of the wheelchair, and towards the bedroom.


	7. Chapter 7

Charles pushed up to a sitting position in bed, feeling dreadfully confused.

He had been so angry with Erik only a few hours ago. And yet since then, they had had sex. Twice. Angry sex that ended up with Erik pounding into him with an intensity that allowed the both of them to vent their mutual frustrations silently.

But there was hardly any surprise. Sex was the least of their problems – even despite the fact that his disability had changed the way they did it. Charles never had anything with anyone else like what he had with Erik – this intense, animalistic sexual attraction that was well off the charts. They could not keep their hands off each other, especially since they were like thirsty men after a three-year sexual drought.

But Charles knew that sex was only a stopgap to their present problems, and their inability to agree over fundamental beliefs. When they fucked, they did not have to talk. And yet the Charles and Erik Show rolled on, with no signs of stopping. Charles was like an addict who promised to quit his drug, to reform, and yet could then be found cutting a line a cocaine seconds after making his promise. Why was he so weak?

Annoyed, he turned to yank on the shirt that had been discarded onto the bed. Erik came out of the bathroom, clean and shirtless. And Charles thought with disgust, that was why. Erik looked good, and smelled even better. He was a thoughtful and passionate lover. He was everything Charles could want in a man, a partner with whom to share his life.

Why, oh, why, did he have to be an evil overlord of crime? Why couldn’t he have been an ordinary man - an engineer, a teacher, an accountant, a social worker?

The universe had a perverted sense of humor.

Erik wheeled his chair over by his bedside. Charles realized he hadn’t seen Erik using his abilities, not even once.

‘Thanks,’ he said, and transferred himself into the chair after getting his clothes on. He looked at the darkened windows. ‘What time is it?’

Erik walked over and handed him a glass of water. Charles downed it gratefully.

‘Half past five.’

‘What?’ Charles nearly spat out his water. ‘It’s dinner time?’

‘You’re the only person I know that eats dinner at 5.30pm. Even my mother doesn’t do it.’

‘The first day I met you, you were having dinner at precisely that time.’

‘That was an unusual day,’ Erik said. ‘We had to finish off a shipment late that night, so I took the staff out to eat so we could get dinner out of the way.’

They got ready to go downstairs, and while waiting for the elevator, Erik turned to Charles.

‘So you will return to me when Shaw is out of the way?’

Charles slammed the brakes on his wheelchair and turned his head around so quickly he nearly got whiplash. ‘Erik! No! Not this again. Christ Almighty. Don’t you understand that I will not return, not unless you are ready to give up the idea of killing Shaw! He is a threat to us. And there’s no guarantee that he won’t come for us again. And what am I supposed to lose next? My arms? My life?’

A muscle twitched in Erik’s clenched jaw. ‘That’s why he has to die. He will be a threat for as long as he lives.’

‘Yes, there’s that again. Killing. Right. That’s your solution to everything.’

‘You will be safe with me,’ Erik said. ‘I can protect you and David.’

‘Oh, yes? Just like you protected Magda?’ Charles snapped, knowing it was a low blow but bulldozing through regardless. ‘Just like you protected me and my son?’

There was really nothing else Erik could say. Charles was completely right. Still, he felt terrible for actually saying it. He knew that Erik had probably torn himself apart, over and over, for those mistakes. As they rode the elevator down, and across the lobby, Charles felt terrible. He was almost ashamed of himself.

Knowing that Erik was still following closely, Charles stopped at the bar first. A waiter came over to take their order. He ordered a scotch on rocks, and downed it as soon as it arrived. It wasn’t called liquid courage for no reason.

‘Erik, I’m sorry,’ Charles said. ‘That wasn’t fair at all.’

‘It’s true, though,’ Erik sipped at his own drink.

‘The last three years has been long and hard. But I’ve also found something inside of me that I didn’t know I had, and I wouldn’t have found it if I still had my legs. I’ve forgiven you, Erik, a long time ago. I shouldn’t have brought it up just because it’s convenient.’

‘It’s not convenient if it’s the truth,’ Erik said. ‘And it is well-deserved, on both our parts. But I am trying to show you, Charles. I have learned. Something has changed. I haven’t worked my ass off these years without anything to show for it.’

Charles stretched forward, reaching for Erik’s hand. ‘I’m hearing you, Erik. I really truly am. I just … it’s so much. It’s so …’

‘Overwhelming?’ Erik completed helpfully. ‘I understand. I’ll try … not to push too much.’

‘So what have you been doing before?’ Charles joked, trying to lighten the mood. ‘Come on, let’s get some food. I’m hungry.’

But Erik held onto to his hand. ‘I want you to know that I have held nothing back from you. I am converting my interests so there is no longer the question of legality. I do want you back in my life, Charles. I will protect you and David. And if it is what you wish, you don’t have to work, and you will no longer want for anything in terms of anything money can buy. Although I have a feeling that your personal net worth is a little higher than mine,’ he said, a small smile tugging at his lips.

Charles smiled back, giving Erik’s hand a squeeze. ‘Not since I’ve been flinging money for the academy. I’m not promising anything, Erik. But I know it’s different this time. At least you’re being upfront and honest with me, and I appreciate it.’

‘I have,’ Erik said. Then the most disconcerting look overcame him, as if something had just occurred to him.

Charles lowered their intertwined hands to the table. ‘What?’ he said, guardedly.

Erik shook his head. ‘I just thought of something.’

‘Is there anything else I need to know?’ Charles said.

‘No,’ Erik said. ‘Look, there is one … thing. I ask only that you will give me some time to sort it out, and I promise to tell you about it.’

Charles narrowed his eyes, but said a very hesitant and doubtful, ‘OK.’

Erik got up and signed their bar tab, and came back to the table. ‘What would you like to do for dinner?’

Charles shrugged. ‘It doesn’t matter. Shall we take a stroll and see what there is?’

So they set off, Erik keeping pace with Charles, zooming forward in his electric wheelchair. He pointed out various shopfronts, kept talking about anything under the sun, but they had walked a while when they realized there wasn’t any restaurants in the area.

Erik walked ahead for about three steps before he realized that Charles had stopped in front of a huge Cineplex. ‘Charles?’

‘Dinner and a show,’ Charles pointed out.

‘You want to eat popcorn for dinner?’ Erik asked, almost incredulously.

Charles looked at him, mischief on his face. ‘Why not? Are you too posh for popcorn? Come on, I’ll buy you a candy bar too.’ He wheeled through the automatic doors without waiting for Erik’s reaction.

There was only a handful of people standing in line of tickets. It was quiet for a Friday evening, but Charles supposed that it was early yet for a movie. Charles moved up to the counter when it was their turn.

‘Hi,’ he said pleasantly. ‘Do you have any cinemas that have disability access?’

The bored teenager looked at her screen. ‘There’s one at cinema 4, in twenty minutes. Or cinema 6, which starts in an hour. It’s gold class.’

‘Ooh, gold class,’ Charles said, rubbing his hands together. ‘I do like the sound of that. At least we’ll get a proper meal out of it, Erik. What movie is it?’

The teenager swung the rotating monitor towards them and Charles briefly glanced at it before she turned it back. ‘It’s at seven. Do you want it?’

‘Yes, thanks. Two tickets, please.’

Erik reluctantly pulled out a crisp hundred-dollar bill from wallet.

The teenager looked at it disdainfully, and barely kept from rolling her eyes. ‘Out of change. I’ll have to go in the back. Gimme a second here.’ She slid off her stool and slouched in slow-motion to the back.

Charles looked at Erik. ‘Why do you carry so much cash around?’

‘I always carry cash. It makes it difficult to trace,’ Erik said.

‘Forget that I asked,’ Charles said. ‘I didn’t really want to know.’ He watched Erik scrutinize his surroundings, and knew he wasn’t impressed. The man was far too out of touch to have watched a movie in the local cinema, Charles realized. To be honest, he was getting a little bit of a kick seeing Erik’s discomfort.

The girl slinked back and handed them their change and two tickets. ‘You can enter cinema 6 now. There’s a lounge there for gold class customers only. You can place your orders with them there.’

Erik tucked the tickets in his back pocket and let Charles lead the way.

At the lounge, Charles took a look at the menu, and began ordering random bits of finger food, popcorn, and a candy bar just for Erik. ‘Anything else, Erik?’ he asked cheerfully.

‘I don’t like butter and salt popcorn,’ Erik said.

Charles lowered the menu slowly. ‘What?’

‘I don’t like salty popcorn,’ Erik said again, looking like the words had been forced from his lips.

Charles began laughing.

‘Are you quite done?’ Erik asked snappishly.

Charles wiped the tears from his eyes and nodded. ‘Did you want sweet popcorn, then?’

Erik nodded grudgingly. ‘Just a little bit.’                                                                                          

When the movie trailers were about to begin, he let Erik help push him into the reserved wheelchair space at the very end row, and Erik sat down next to him in the comfortably plush seat that Charles looked at in envy for all of two seconds before the waiter started bringing in the small truckload of food that they had ordered.

‘What’s the movie?’ Erik asked.

‘No idea,’ Charles said. ‘Maybe a war movie or something. It looked kind of grim.’

He was only half right. It turned out to be a horror movie, one of those Asian imports that Hollywood insisted on remaking. As the title card came up, he felt Erik stiffen next to him.

Charles didn’t see horror movies much, but he let himself enjoy it. After all, he hadn’t been to the movies for what, five, six years? Life as a single parent was woefully devoid of entertainment catered for unattached people. The movie was a little campy, a little rough around the edges in terms of the plot, but nevertheless had a couple of good frights.

Charles was reaching for his drink on Erik’s side when there was an unexpected jump scare, as the pale long-haired ghost suddenly appeared in front of the camera. His heart bounced crazily, then settled back into a regular rhythm as he felt the jolt of adrenaline. But next to him, Erik had literally jumped in his seat, quick and shocked like a scalded cat. The bucket of popcorn he held loosely in hand had flown upwards and scattered all around his seat. Erik caught Charles’s gaze, and immediately averted his own, evidently quite embarrassed that he had been caught.

Charles started sniggering at first, then it became a silent flood of laughter that shook his body as he struggled in vain to control the tears that came out of his eyes. His mind could conjure up the images so clearly, and he felt as if he would go to his grave always remembering it. He could not, in his wildest dreams, imagine that Erik Lehnsherr was so susceptible to B-grade horror movies.

‘Charles,’ Erik hissed, throwing a handful of popcorn into his direction. ‘Shut the fuck up.’

But Charles could not stop. This was a side to Erik he had never seen. The big bad crime lord was scared of pretend ghosts in a horror movie.

Erik was annoyed enough to poke him in the ribs. Charles could only suck air into his nose before the laughter overtook him again.

But all the air in the world wasn’t enough when Erik leaned over, gripped his chin, and caught his mouth in his own. The tangle of tongues was hot, insistent, and with just a touch of irritation at the edges. Charles could taste the sweetness from the caramel popcorn that Erik had eaten, and as Erik led the merry dance, Charles let himself be led, and he leaned into the kiss.

His hand snaked over to the lapel of Erik’s jacket, and he dragged him closer. Erik was practically perched over the arm of the seat in order to reach Charles. He dimly felt himself knock over his own bucket of popcorn onto the floor, but mindless of the mess he had made, he felt himself giving and taking, surrendering and dominating in the same breath. The darkened atmosphere helped, and the horror movie faded into the background beneath the thundering of his heart.

Erik broke first, gasping as unyielding arm of the seat pressed against his groin. ‘Charles, you’ll be the death of me,’ he whispered. ‘Let’s get out of here,’ he said.

Charles chuckled. ‘Afraid the movie’s going to make you crap your pants?’

Erik growled. He got up, taking Charles with him.

Charles laughed out loud the moment they exited the cinema, letting Erik push him down the carpeted corridor rather speedily. Their way back to the hotel was interrupted by a quick trip to the chemist’s, where Erik came out with a small white bag. Charles could feel lust churning at the base of his belly, readying in anticipation for when Erik’s bare skin would touch his, his warm hands marking a trail down his body.

Their return to the hotel room was practically a blur. Once they reached the privacy of the room, it was as if chaos broke loose. Shirts and pants and underwear flew off as quickly as they could shed them, and Erik pretty much picked him up from the chair and tossed him onto the bed.

Erik had spent so much care in previous encounters to ensure he handled Charles delicately that this roughness was actually a thrill for Charles. Out of the white bag were condoms and lube, and Erik squirted them messily over the both of them. Erik’s slippery hand teasingly massaging his cock had him half-erect, and Charles groaned, enjoying the way his body was coming alive under Erik’s touch.

Erik’s other hand found its way down to Charles’s hole, his finger teasing at the entrance. Charles could feel every single burn and stretch of his muscles there. He was now so used to the feeling of not having any sensation at all that this unfamiliar tingle was a welcome jolt, an almost unbearable abuse of whatever nerve endings he had left.

‘I would kick you right now, if I could. Hurry, hurry,’ Charles gasped out, as he acutely felt Erik’s knuckles brushed against him, and when his fingertips found Charles’s sweet spot, he actually bucked his upper body from the lightning bolt of pleasure that struck him.

‘Shut up, Charles,’ Erik said through gritted teeth. ‘You’re always so impatient.’ But relenting, he roughly shoved Charles’s legs apart, lifted him and thrust in hard, gentleness be damned. Charles panted harshly, almost blanking out from the moment that the pleasure came at him hard and fast.

Erik supported his weight as he thrust as deeply as his magnificent cock could go, and Charles was practically choking out his shouts. Erik rode him relentlessly and mercilessly, and they both let the current take them as they finished, one after another. Erik’s body was coated in a light sheen of sweat, his chest heaving.

Charles himself could feel his heart racing, soaring with the cresting pleasure of his orgasm, before slowly descending towards the ground again. He heard Erik roll off the bed and discard the condom before coming back and practically collapsing into the bed.

Charles reached for Erik, who obligingly rolled towards him, so Charles could hold him and have a cuddle. But that cuddle soon turned into sleep.

And the next morning, Charles awoke when Erik stirred. He could feel Erik pressing gentle feather kisses on his eyelids, before pulling away. ‘I have to go for my run,’ Erik said.

‘Skip it,’ Charles murmured. ‘Come back to bed and I’ll make it worth your while.’

‘Tempting, but I really can’t. I can’t skip my running three days in a row.’

‘Why?’ Charles said. ‘Or you’ll turn rabid?’

He heard Erik’s husky little chuckle in the dark and he faded away to get dressed in the shadows.

Charles closed his eyes and soaked up every minute of sleep.

When he got up, he decided to run a warm bath. He was sitting in it, water up to his chest, inhaling the sweet floral scent from the bath salts, eyes closed, listening to the faint classical music that he had left on in the other room.

He lifted his head when he heard a sound, and saw Erik in the bathroom, sweaty and damp from his punishing run, kneeling in front of the bathtub, happy to watch Charles.

‘Join me?’ Charles asked.

Erik didn’t need to be invited twice, judging from the haste he shed his clothes. He stuck one foot in, before submerging his body into the water. Then he crawled over on his knees to Charles, and showered small kisses on the side of his wet face.

Charles turned his head towards Erik, reciprocating, kissing him back, feeling the heat still emanating from his body. He put his arms around Erik’s neck, letting Erik pull him into sitting position. His hands drifted downwards, down that magnificent body, made for tailored suits as well as curve-hugging t-shirts.

Erik was already hard for him.

‘I want you in my mouth,’ Charles said, tugging on Erik’s hips so he could get up on his knees, bringing his cock close to Charles’s face. Charles rolled his tongue gently onto the tip of Erik’s cock, eliciting a deep groan from him.

Erik fucked his mouth quick and fast, the way Charles liked it. He could feel Erik brace his hands on either side of his head against the tub as he thrust his hips forward back and forth, then the tight curl of his muscles as Erik stiffened, braced against the onrushing, sweeping pleasure only an orgasm could bring. He came in Charles’s mouth, thick and salty come that hit the back of his throat.

Erik dropped into a sitting position, breathing hard as Charles watched him, a smug smile on his face.

‘That was a very nice morning greeting,’ Charles said.

‘I was just going to say the same thing.’ Erik dipped his hand and splashed his face with the warm water before running his fingers through his wet hair.

They grinned at each other.

Erik helped him out of the bath and they had breakfast together. Over orange juice and a cup of builder’s tea, he and Erik both watched the morning news. Although he couldn’t feel it, he could see Erik’s hand resting on his thigh, an absent gesture of affection and tenderness.

And that peace within him loosened his tongue.

‘Sometimes I wish things were different, Erik.’

Erik’s gaze moved away from the television screen.

‘Things are different. You say it like we don’t have a choice, like our road ahead of us is fixed. You know better than anyone about how we can change to suit our circumstances.’

‘You mean me ending up in a wheelchair?’ Charles asked.

‘No,’ Erik actually seem horrified. ‘That wasn’t what I meant. I was referring to you having a child. I’m sure you never imagined being a parent, and yet you are here. The most protective daddy bear I know.’

‘I’m nothing compared to you,’ Charles said, with a small smile.

‘You’re so obstinate, Charles. We can have a life together, if you let it happen.’ Erik gave his thigh a squeeze, before dropping his hand.

‘Come on now, Erik,’ Charles said, shaking his head.

‘I’m serious, Charles. We can wake up like this, every morning, together. Have breakfast.’

‘Erik, don’t start.’

‘Stay with me, Charles. We can grow old together. Live together. Marry me.’

Charles dropped his hands into his lap and examined Erik’s face. ‘Are you seriously proposing marriage right here, right now? Not only is it incredibly inappropriate, we’re not exactly in the best place.’

‘I’m not joking, Charles. If you want a big proposal, I’ll do it. I will do whatever I need to, to keep you my by side.’

‘No, Erik,’ Charles said. ‘I’m actually not talking about that. We’re not even on even ground, yet. We’re far from it.’

‘Then what was all this about?’ Erik said, and Charles could actually see a flare of temper in Erik’s steely gaze, which was a surprise to him, because Erik was one of the most even-tempered out of all the people he knew. ‘We spend all this time together and you want to pretend it’s just a blip of a weekend and walk away after this? Is that what you were planning?’

‘I wasn’t leading you on, if that’s what you’re implying,’ Charles said, rather icily.

Erik responded with equal coldness. ‘I wasn’t aware you didn’t want to move on, Charles. You tell me that you’ve forgiven me and you want to move forward, but talk’s rather cheap, isn’t it?’

‘Jesus, Erik Lehnsherr. What were you expecting? That I would fall for your charms and say, let’s get married?’

‘No. I had hoped that you might consider giving us just a chance. But it sounds like you aren’t even willing to entertain the notion, let alone consider it. For three years now, I’ve worked on myself every single day to change my life so I could show you something was different. I told myself that was my way of winning you back. But I see now that you have no interest in making any changes yourself.’

‘Excuse me?’ Charles asked, offended beyond belief. ‘Why should I have to change? I’m not the one at fault here.’

‘You’re not perfect, Charles. And that’s the crux of the problem, isn’t it? You always have to be the one with the upper hand in the relationship. You like taking things at your own pace, and lord help anyone who wants to go a little faster. You’d gladly fuck me but when things get serious, you are happy to walk away.’

‘Fuck you, Erik,’ Charles swore.

‘I’ve bared everything I have to you, Charles. You know how I feel about you.’

‘No, I don’t! You’ve never said anything even close to what I’ve said to you!’ Charles shouted.

‘Really?’ Erik raised a sardonic brow. ‘Were my feelings for you ever in doubt? I don’t have to say the words for you to know that I care greatly for you, and I want to have a future with you. I said it three years ago, and I’m saying it now. But that’s never enough for you, is it?’

‘That’s total bollocks.’

Erik took a deep breath. ‘I’m frustrated, Charles. I just don’t know how to convince you that I’m serious about you, and I want a future with you. It feels like no matter what I do, you just won’t even entertain the idea of being together.’ He shook his head. ‘Sorry. I didn’t want to fight. I think I’m just feeling a little tired.’

Charles stared at Erik. ‘I think this whole thing was a mistake from the beginning.’

‘So what are you suggesting?’

‘I think we need to go away for a while, have a good think about it. I don’t know, Erik. Maybe we’ll fix a date a little down the road, see how we feel by then, see if anything’s changed.’

Erik seared him with a glance filled with contempt. ‘Really, Charles? Running away isn’t going to solve our problems.’

‘I’m not running!’ Charles shouted.

‘Aren’t you, Charles? You did this before, and I had to chase after you. But I will promise you this. I won’t do it again. If you run this time, I’m not coming after you.’ Erik’s voice was very cold, very final.

Charles speared him a furious glance, and began to wheel into the bedroom, before slamming the door behind him.


	8. Chapter 8

Erik felt like he was a hamster on a wheel. He kept running, but he never really got anywhere. In fact, he was in the same goddamn place he had been in when he first started.

It was a fairly apt analogy for the relationship between him and Charles. The man was simply infuriating. They had arguments roughly the same regularity they had sex. It was at times like this when he wished he had a few bits of metal to tear apart and reshape, just to have some way to vent his anger.

There was only so much rejection a man could take. He was done trying to convince Charles to stay with him. He realized now that in the three years that they were apart from each other, while he had struggled to keep his head above the water, Charles had thrived. Erik was in awe at how strong, how unconquerable Charles was really; he was truly the best man Erik knew. His body may have been broken, but his spirit remained unbowed.

It was no small wonder that Erik was madly in love with someone so strong, so beautiful.

But by the same token, Charles was crazy, neurotic, and hopelessly inflexible in his thinking. And the truth was clear. Charles didn’t need him. He would be fine without Erik.

Erik wished he could say the same for himself. But he knew he needed Charles like he needed oxygen. He was dying inside, slowly but surely. He thought he had learned how to live life without Charles.  Until their fates had crossed paths again in the lounge of an overly expensive hotel in Philadelphia, and he realized that he had been telling himself the same lie over and over again.

And a single whiff of Charles was enough to revive him from his deadened reverie. That very knowledge shook him to his core. He was nothing without Charles.

But that was his problem, not Charles’s. If he was happy, even without Erik, then who was he to interfere and impose his will on Charles? He had accepted this very possibility as part of his penance, for the part he had played in destroying Charles’s life.

And truth be told, he just wanted to get off the wheel. He was so, so tired. Some days he just wanted to crawl into bed and sleep forever. In his sleep, there wasn’t Shaw, or Charles, or the family he had sworn to protect.

It seemed like he was never going to convince Charles to see that they could belong together, and be happy.

It was not normally like him to be so defeatist, but this battle was no longer his to fight. If there was one thing he couldn’t control, it was Charles’s heart. He would keep his promise – he was not going after Charles if he chose to leave again.

Erik packed his belongings into the bag, taking all of ten minutes to do so. Charles had gone out to visit his student again, for one final interview. It was just as well too, since Charles would no longer have a reason to stay in the city. Once he returned to Westchester, Erik would not reach him there. Not out of spite, or anger, but for their safety.

When he was done, he sat down to wait.

But he could see that their argument was not over when Charles returned two hours later, his eyes still hot and angry, his body language primed for a fight.  Charles spoke first, his eyes darting to the packed bag at Erik’s feet.

‘I see you’re getting ready to leave.’

Erik dropped his arms onto his knees, and leaned forward, laying all his cards on the table, summoning enough energy for one final deal. ‘I don’t want to go, Charles. I want to be with you, stay with you. I’ll go with you wherever you want. The only thing I will ask is that you respect my wishes with regards to Shaw, and that you will give me some time to do so.’

‘Erik, it’s not that simple.’

‘Actually, it is that simple,’ Erik said expressionlessly. ‘It’s just a yes or no, Charles, to whether you want a relationship with me.’

Charles stared at him, refusing to say anything. But his eyes said it all.

Erik knew his answer right then and there. After an eternity of torture, Erik picked up his bag and stood up. He walked up to Charles, who was holding himself stiffly, angrily. Erik bent down and pressed a tender kiss to Charles’s mouth, tasting the bitter sweetness of yet another goodbye.

‘My door will always be open to you, Charles. My heart will always be yours. But you will have to come to me, when you are ready. And my offer of marriage still stands.’ Erik straightened, and patted Charles’s shoulder twice, awkwardly, briefly.

That little touch reminded him of one late night many years ago, in front of a shitty bar, when Charles had saved him from himself.

And he hoped that this time, Charles would do it again.

He walked away, quietly shutting the door behind him, willing himself not to look back. He had to take a leaf out of Charles’s book, to forge on with his own life. He had many things and people to be thankful for. His mother, his children. His friends, and his business. He left through the lobby, and got into the black Audi that idled by the front.

He spent the entire journey back to New York staring out the window, brooding. When he arrived at the headquarters of Eisenhardt Corp, he went straight to his office. It was blissfully empty as it was the weekend. But he could see some movement in the corner office.

Erik tried to slink by and into his own office. He was just flipping through the small mountain of documents on his desk when the door swung open.

‘Emma,’ he groaned. ‘Would you fucking leave me alone, please?’

She flopped onto the visitor’s chair opposite him, eyeing him carefully. She was dressed in what he assumed was casual weekend wear, which was surprisingly more modest than her usual work attire. She wore white jeans and a sleeveless linen shirt, her hair curled and teased in waves over her shoulders.

‘Hello to you too, you cranky bastard. Why are you so grumpy after a vacation?’ Emma said.

‘Don’t ask,’ Erik said. Then he lifted his eyes up to her. ‘And don’t take that as permission to go through my head.’

Emma pouted. ‘I just wanted to know what you were up to. Or who you were doing,’ she smirked slyly.

Erik ignored her. ‘Why the fuck weren’t these documents forward to me? These are important, Emma.’

‘You think I don’t know that?’ Emma shot back. ‘But I’ve been busy chasing up another lead on Shaw, and I think I’ve found something substantial this time.’

And just like that, he was back on the scent. ‘Thanks for burying the lead there. What have you found?’

‘You know how we tracked him to Ho Chi Minh eight months ago?’

‘Yes. He was gone. And his trail leading back to California went nowhere.’

‘False trail. He had us chasing our own tails. I went back and looked into it, and long story short, I managed to find tickets to Thailand under the name of K. Schmidt.’

‘Fucker.’

‘Clever, isn’t he?’

‘When do we leave?’ Erik began tossing the documents into the bag.

‘I’ve got open tickets to Bangkok at any time, so whenever you’re ready.’

‘Plane tickets?’ Erik asked incredulously. ‘Where’s Azazel?’

‘He’s with Raven. They just left New York. They were heading to Westchester, but said they would stop off for a babymoon staycation. I have no idea what it is, but it sounds terrible.’

Erik ignored the pang of guilt that shot through him. ‘I thought he wasn’t going with her.’

Emma shrugged. ‘Changed his mind, I guess. So when do you want to go?’

If you asked him whether he would prefer a teleportation trip that would last seconds to an actual 19-hour airplane trip across the North Atlantic Ocean, there was no question of which he would pick. But he had always vowed to himself that for his journey of vengeance with Shaw, he would never pull in anybody who didn’t want to be there. And right now, Azazel had something far more important to do.

Oh, the things he did for the people he cared about.

Besides, being in a vehicle full of vibrating metal always calmed him. It would give him some time to plan exactly what he needed to do, and how to do it. Nineteen hours was more than enough time.

Erik got to his feet. ‘Now.’

Emma glared up at him. ‘I didn’t mean right now, Erik.’

‘I do.’ Erik grabbed his black bag and began walking. ‘You’ll have everything ready on the other side?’

‘They’re already there,’ Emma said, her heels click-clacking noisily next to him. ‘I’ve got people watching the man who helped forge his passport. A small administrative fry who works at the embassy. All evidence points to him knowing something.’

The driver began directing the car towards the JFK airport, and they lapsed into silence. Erik was trying to go through the documents, occasionally clarifying a quick point with Emma, who was noisily tapping her phone with her ridiculous fingernails.

At the airport, they were slowed down at security clearance, where the officers took an unusually long time putting Emma through the standard security measures. Erik sort of understood the attraction. Emma was an eye-catching, beautiful woman who often chose to put her spectacular body in clothes that look like they had been painted on. No wonder they wanted to take a longer look. She was a work of art.

While waiting for her, Erik asked himself why he couldn’t have had a romantic relationship with Emma, instead of the mess he had with Charles. Oh yes, he reminded himself sarcastically. Because Emma was like the human equivalent of a shark, luring you in before eating you whole.

A very long time ago, when they were both still working for Shaw, Erik had slept with Emma once, and that was it. Once was enough to know that she was too similar to him, too calculating, too hard, too shark-like in their approach to life. Erik needed someone softer, more nurturing. Someone who wouldn’t bust his balls while he was asleep. In saying that though, Charles busted his balls plenty enough. But Erik knew that h and Emma both worked best in a professional and friendly capacity.

It wasn’t long before they boarded the direct flight to Thailand. Over the other aisle, draped underneath the thick plush blankets, Emma had finally put down her phone and was flipping through the movie channels. ‘I need to catch up on some of these movies,’ Emma muttered to herself as she took a sip of the champagne the flight attendant had offered, and blanched, probably appalled that they weren’t offering more expensive champagne. ‘Shocking.’

Erik looked at her over his own work. ‘I suggest you get some sleep.’

She batted her eyelids at him. ‘I suggest you do the same, darling. Your eye bags practically look purple from here.’

Erik leaned back and tried to doze at several points during the long flight, but he was feeling a little too agitated to ever go into a deep sleep.  But he was well-fed, and it gave him time to think. Whenever the thought of Charles crowded into his brain, he pushed it away. He had to focus on the task at hand. There was no room for mistakes, no time to dwell.

When they touched down at Suvarnabhumi International Airport a little under nineteen hours later, they hit the ground running. They stepped out of the cool confines of the airport, and a blast of muggy heat hit him in the face. Despite the monsoon season, the rain had not cooled the earth enough to create a cool breeze even in the early hours of the morning.

‘Did you want to rest first?’ Emma asked.

‘No. This is the best time to catch a rat,’ Erik said. ‘Take us to the weasel at the embassy so we can make him squeal.’ They caught a taxi, with a Thai cabbie who tried to rip these seemingly wealthy _farang_ off with his exorbitant prices. But just as Emma was about to protest, Erik waved her away. ‘Pay him whatever he wants. Not the time for it, Emma.’

‘This is why I have to reject your expenses claims, Erik!’ Emma snipped at him. ‘Besides, it’s more for the thrill of negotiating anyway, the nuances which are clearly lost on you. ’

When they arrived at a set of apartments, Erik peeled off a sheaf of foreign bills to the driver. ‘I’ll triple that if you wait for us here,’ he said, ignoring Emma’s rude look.

The cabbie grinned from ear to ear. ‘Of course, sir,’ he said obligingly. ‘How long will you be, sir?’

‘Twenty minutes. Half hour, maximum,’ Erik calculated.

‘You’re a cocky one,’ Emma said, as she slammed the car door behind her. The apartment was not secured, so they practically rode the elevator to the 11th floor unmolested, and stood in front of the second flat on their right.

‘Stay here,’ Erik said. Then he eyed the open layout of the apartments. There was an open window across the ledge, probably to encourage a breeze to circulate the house. He climbed up on the ledge and made a calculated, silent leap across the balcony to reach the window.

He slid in, then quietly unlocked the door for Emma. She was brimming with disapproval about what she perceived was his silly and obstinate refusal to use his own powers. They toed off their shoes and traipsed down the silent hallway, communicating in gestures and pointed fingers about which was most likely the room that the man was in. After a quick listen, Emma pointed to the door she was standing in front of, and flashed him a thumbs up.

They snuck into the room as quietly as they could and closed the door behind them. Erik walked over to the bed, where he could see the man and his wife sleeping. Emma froze the woman in her sleep, ensuring that she wouldn’t wake up.

Erik physically hauled the man up and out of his deep sleep and pinned him to the wall. The sleep in the man’s eyes were immediately wiped away and replaced by sheer terror.

‘You will tell me where Sebastian Shaw lives, and if he is still there,’ Erik said quietly, his one hand gripping the man’s throat quite firmly. Erik saw the confusion in his eyes. ‘He also goes by the moniker of Klaus Schmidt.’ Erik saw the man’s eyes light up in recognition.

He choked and struggled with Erik’s hand to his windpipe, and Erik leaned close. ‘On the count to three, you have exactly ten seconds to tell me where the man is, or you will die. One, two, three.’ Erik released his grip for a moment, enough for the man to cough out an address. ‘He’s been there three years now.’

Unbelievable, Erik thought viciously. He dropped the man, who crumpled into a ball onto the floor, where Emma swiftly knocked him out and wiped his memory. They walked out, put on their shoes, and headed for the idling taxi.

The cab driver took them straight to the villa in a speedy fifteen minutes, considering the lack of traffic. When he stopped in front of mansion made of white bricks and located surreptitiously on the outskirts of the city, he turned to his passengers. ‘Do you still need me to wait, sir?’

Erik shook his head, now handing over a thick bundle of bills to the man. ‘This is for your silence, as well.’

‘Very good, sir,’ the cabbie said, understandingly. ‘Have a good morning, sir, madam.’

Erik strode immediately into the villa, letting the hum and vibration of his metal senses finally come to life. He honed in quickly on the shape and weight of a helmet, and followed its direction as he heard Emma shape-shift into her diamond form just behind him.

They entered into a room where Erik could sense the helmet, and where he could acutely feel the pulsating of a living, human body filled with red blood cells carrying iron. And just behind the door, there was the man himself.

The door locked behind them as soon as they stepped in. Emma instantly shifted back into her human form. And that hum of metal that rang in his ear immediately dropped into silence. ‘Erik,’ Emma said, her voice low and unsure. ‘There’s something wrong with the room.’

Erik knew what it was, even as Shaw’s eerie laughter rang out in the room, taunting them. ‘Isn’t this room magnificent?’ he said.

‘No,’ Erik said shortly. ‘What is it?’

The library was a large circular room, unremarkable except for the electronic lock at the only entrance and exit. It was filled with wooden shelves and books, wooden benches and sofas. But the walls were padded with a sort of white material that looked like metal but felt like plastic.

‘It’s lined with a dampener for mutant powers,’ Shaw said. ‘Courtesy of the R & D branch of Shaw Industries. Marvelous technology, really. Suppresses your ability to use your mutant powers. So,’ he wagged his finger at both Emma and Erik. ‘No using your mind tricks and your metal manipulation skills.’

Erik’s finger twitched as he felt for the gun tucked under his shirt. Emma had gotten it from the airport locker as they were about to exit. How anyone could smuggle weaponry into an airport was beyond him, but now Erik was thankful that he had it. He may have been without his powers, but old-fashioned weapons worked just as well.

‘You’re still looking as fine as ever, my darling,’ Shaw leered at Emma. ‘Still sexy and charming like the snake you always have been.’ He ran straight at Emma, giving Erik just enough time to pull out the gun, cock it and pump three bullets into Shaw’s side as he ran past.

But instead of the bullets felling him, Shaw jumped right on Emma, knocking her to the ground. As she twisted underneath his weight, he actually had the gall to turn to Erik, and smiled as he brushed off the flattened bits of the bullets onto the ground. Erik’s gaze swung from the bullets to Shaw, whose disgusting leer was smug and arrogant. ‘Sorry, boy. I forgot to tell you that I’ve been practicing with using my powers in this room for what, roughly three years now. It’s not perfect,’ he said dolefully. ‘But I have enough control over my own abilities to still make sure they somewhat function.’

Erik glared furiously at him.

Shaw laughed. ‘I can’t believe it took you three years to find me.’ He lifted his palm, then pressed it against Emma’s sternum, firing the same impact into her that he received from the bullets.

Erik actually heard her ribs crack even as her scream pierced the air, but he knew more than ever before he needed to stop and think. Shaw not only had the upper hand over the both of them, but Emma was in real danger. If the dampener could be resisted, then he had to do it. Erik gritted his teeth and tried to fling off the helmet, but it didn’t even budge. Nothing responded under his touch.

Shaw got up off Emma’s unconscious form and Erik instantly knew that he was fucked. Shaw stalked towards him, toying with him, taking his time. Erik had no choice. In order to live, he had to find a way of subvert the circumstances, even if it meant his body took a pounding.

Erik sprinted across the room to check Emma’s pulse with two fingers to the carotid artery in her neck. To his short-lived relief, it was still beating strong. He lifted her and ran at the locked exit, turning his back to it just as Shaw came at him, and launched a punch straight to his chest.

He was thrown against the door, feeling like the wind had literally been punched out of his body. The pain in his chest was bruising, punishing, nothing like what he felt before. He crashed to the ground, taking Emma with him.

He took another fist to his face, and he could feel the metallic taste of blood pooling in his mouth even as his ears rang from the blow. He spat out the blood and reached for Shaw, toppling him to the ground. But for every punch he landed on Shaw, Shaw gave it back to him twice as hard.

Erik staggered to his feet, grabbed Shaw by his head and slammed the helmet straight against the lock on the door again and again and again, knowing that he was doing nothing to Shaw. He heard the goading laugh in his ears, but he didn’t care. He used all of his strength to keep slamming the helmet against the lock, until he saw the smallest crack in the door, and his metal senses started roaring back to life. It was tiny, but it was something. He placed his hands over Shaw’s helmet, feeling the metal slowly cave in. But it was too little, too slow.

Shaw discovered what he was doing, and that the door behind had been breached. He flung the helmet off his head before he launched a leg kick straight at Erik’s shoulder, throwing him across the room.

Erik wanted so badly to collapse right then and there. The pain was overwhelming enough that he had trouble concentrating on what he had to do, and it was muddled by his every instinct screaming out for him to get Shaw no matter the consequences. He got up on his knees, and he could feel them buckle under his weight. His arm was probably dislocated, and every moment brought fresh pain to his body. But even as blood dripped in his right eye and obscured his vision – when did he get hit in the head? – he knew he could not pass out, because it meant a certain death.

So he fought, hard, like he had never fought before. His entire being was solely focused on his own survival, and he summoned the last vestiges of his strength to reach for the heavy helmet, left discarded on the floor, and was trying to reforge it into a sharp projectile when he heard Emma start to stir, her body shifting into diamond form almost instinctively.

But Sebastian Shaw was wily enough to know when to cut his losses. He slipped out through the crack in the door. It was literally impossible for Erik to go after him, despite feeling a rage sweep away the pain in his body. He weakly magnetized Shaw’s helmet to his side. Every cough brought a fresh wave of pain, and it felt like hours passed before he could get on his knees and drag himself to Emma. She hovered in between consciousness, and he laid a hand over her. He used his sore arm to dial a number, and then spoke into it briefly.

He forced himself to stay awake until Azazel appeared just outside the door, and he tore through the plaster and wood until he could get to them. He was horrified at the extent of their injuries, but wisely said nothing. He gently gathered Emma in his arms, slung her over his shoulder, then wrapped an arm around Erik’s back, and he teleported them back home, back to safety.

Erik’s eyes rolled to the back of his head.


	9. Chapter 9

While David dozed against his chest, Charles ate the last of the ham and cheese sandwich that Logan had made for him. The luxury of dining leisurely and in complete silence was over now that he was back home, he thought. David had been overjoyed to see his father, but only for all of two minutes. He was soon right back to playing with his power rangers, evidently having really enjoyed the company of adults other than his own parent the past few days.

That suited the both of them. When David was younger, Charles had devoted all his time to raising a child. Now that David needed him less, Charles found that he derived great satisfaction from his work, which in turn, made him a better parent.

David was getting a little too big to be sleeping on Charles, but Charles didn’t mind. He had missed his little boy, who smelled of grass and little boy sweat and candy. Over lunch, he had proceeded to tell his  father exactly what he and Logan had gotten up to, including how many pieces of candy, chocolate or serves of ice cream that Logan had promised him in return for him to ‘go away and leave Uncle Logan alone’.

Logan paused in the act of putting down his sandwich when David recounted how the night before, Logan had given him three helpings of chocolate mint ice cream. ‘And he said I didn’t need to brush my teeth, because chocolate mint was like toothpaste anyway!’

Logan slapped his own forehead, and frantically made shushing gestures at David, who pretty much laughed and ignored him. ‘Listen, before you drag my body over the tracks for it, I learned my lesson well. He didn’t go to sleep until after 11. I nearly died.’

Charles only laughed. ‘Where were Jean and Scott when this happened?’

‘They went out for dinner. The slackers. And before you ask, Hank was downstairs, in his lab blowing things up again. And you know he’s practically useless against your son.’

When Logan turned away to load the dishwasher, Charles let his happy façade fall.

It was hard work keeping out the gloom that clouded over him. There was no doubt he was glad to be home, but his parting with Erik left a lot to be desired. After Erik had gone, Charles had packed his own bags. He had stayed one more night, but that was it. He was unable to linger in the room for any longer. Not to mention the bed sheets that smelled so strongly of Erik. He had paid Anna a goodbye visit the next morning, gave her verbal reassurance, and promised to send someone to pick her up in a few weeks so she had time to say her goodbyes. Then he had checked out, jumped into his car, and drove straight home to Westchester.

He heard a car pull up, and sensed a familiar mind. He waited for her to walk through the foyer and towards the kitchen, before he forced himself to say cheerfully, ‘Hello, Raven!’

He hadn’t seen his sister for about two months now, or had it been three? She was looking well in her native form, with a navy trench coat belted over a dress. She pushed her sunglasses on top of her red hair when she bent down to kiss his cheek. ‘Hello, you,’ she said warmly. ‘Hey Logan. How’s it going?’

Logan gave her a quick hug and pulled Charles’s plate off the table. ‘You’re looking real good, Raven. And you … smell different.’

She pulled off her sling bag and took a seat opposite Charles. ‘Thanks, Logan. That’s totally not creepy at all.’

‘You’re here early,’ Charles beamed at her. ‘About a week too early for the party, darling. Not that I’m not glad to see you, of course.’

‘Yeah, I took some time off,’ she said. ‘I thought you might need some help with the party.’

‘Of course,’ Charles said. ‘You’re going to be here for the whole week, then?’

‘Yep. Just thought I would make it into a mini-vacation of sorts,’ she said, but there was something in her eyes that said different. She seemed worried about something.

‘Is everything all right?’ Charles asked.

‘Yes, of course,’ Raven said too quickly.

Charles decided that this was not the case. She was acting suspicious, which was weird in itself because Raven was the absolute master of controlling her emotions. It was part of her gift of shapeshifting. Something was wrong. ‘Do you want to go to the next room?’ he asked.

‘Not now,’ she said. ‘I’ll be fine.’ Then her phone buzzed, and she practically jumped at it, pawing it out of her bag. And as if it wasn’t strange enough, she ran into the next room with her phone, obviously keen to keep Charles out of it.

But Charles knew there was no use pushing her unless she was ready. And he had promised her never to read her mind, so he had to pull back his natural curiosity about her agitated state. Logan wiped his hands on the tea towel, then walked over to Charles to pick up David.

‘I’ll put him to bed,’ Logan said. ‘What time do you want him to wake up?’

‘It’s all right, Logan,’ Charles said. ‘He seems really tired. He can wake up whenever. Thank you for taking such good care of my boy.’

‘All in a day’s work,’ he shrugged. ‘I trust that your Philly trip was productive?’

Charles’s mind flashed back to the days and nights he had spent with Erik. ‘Very,’ he said softly. ‘Anna’s a lovely girl, and she’ll make a great addition to the academy. I promised to send someone down in a week to bring her here.’

‘Not me, thanks,’ Logan said. ‘I bet Grey and Summers will be fine. They owe me that much after sticking me with the kid last night. No offense.’

‘None taken,’ Charles said, amused despite himself. ‘David is a handful, even for a six year old. He requires a lot of active play, a lot of stimulation. Thanks again, Logan.’

Logan patted David’s back and walked away, leaving Charles alone with his thoughts.

When Raven returned, she was pale and ashen. Not good news, then. ‘Everything all right?’ Charles asked.

Raven couldn’t even bring herself to nod. ‘I just … I’ll tell you later, Charles. Not now. My friends are in the hospital, and I don’t even know what’s going on right now. I’m getting updates, so I just have to wait. But I’m just …’ she trailed off.

Charles wheeled over to her and hugged her waist, trying to send her reassuring thoughts. ‘I’ll be here if you need me for anything at all, darling.’ He examined her face closely. ‘Do you want to have a lie down? I can bring you a cup of tea.’

‘Yes, to both,’ Raven said, almost tearfully. ‘I’ll be up in my room while I wait for news. Thank you, Charles.’

Charles watched her retreating back while he put on the kettle, wondering what was different about her, other than her sudden shock about whatever bad news that she had received. He was just putting some tea leaves inside the cup when there was a loud blast. The last time he had heard that sound was three years ago, and Charles was shocked that it had brought back all the horrible memories like it had just happened a few minutes ago. He swore that he could feel his dead legs twitch at the instinctual fear that came with trauma.

He put down the spoon carefully and wheeled to the living room, nodded briefly at the intruder who stood there. ‘Azazel,’ he said politely.

Azazel looked surprised to see Charles, which was strange, considering that he was in Charles’s house. ‘Charles,’ he acknowledged.

That exact moment, Raven came running into the room, and threw herself into Azazel’s arms.

Interesting, Charles thought to himself. Not only did they know each other, they were very well acquainted.

Raven lifted her head. ‘How are they?’

‘Stable,’ he said tonelessly, like a man who was still struggling to process a shocking event. ‘You’ll come down soon?’ he asked.

‘I’ll come now,’ she said, and looked at her watch. ‘I could be there in an hour, if there’s no traffic.’

‘Are you going to be fine driving down yourself?’ Azazel asked.

‘Yes. No. I don’t know. Would you come with me, Charles?’ Raven asked, wiping her nose.

‘All right.’

‘Maybe not your brother,’ Azazel suggested uneasily.

The terribly awkward silence that followed was prolonged, in part because of two things was happening. The first was that Charles was feeling quite offended.

The second was a lightbulb went on in his head suddenly, and he put two and two together. ‘It’s Erik, isn’t it?’ he asked, steeling himself to hear bad news, hoping that he was desperately wrong.

Azazel and Raven looked at each other, then back at him. ‘I’ll explain during the car ride,’ Raven whispered.

The flare of anger that emerged was new, tinged with a healthy dose of humiliation, stemming from the fact that the people he had loved were keeping not one, not two, but multiple secrets from him.

Azazel sent an apologetic nod towards him, and then teleported away, leaving Raven in the quiet room with Charles.

It took Charles all of half an hour to get ready for the journey ahead, once again entrusting the care of David to Logan. By the time he got into his car and locked down his wheelchair in the driver’s seat, Raven was already there.

They pulled out of the driveway in a stony silence, and Charles allowed himself to hit the highway before his carefully calculated words emerged in a cold, calm tone that sounded quite unlike himself. ‘Tell me everything, and don’t bother withholding any information. I don’t care about the promise I’ve made you, and I’ll pull it out of your head myself if I sense you lying to me.’

He could tell that Raven was actually scared, probably because she had never once seen her brother so incandescently furious in his entire life. So in stops and starts, she began.

‘Azazel and I were driving to Westchester when he got a call halfway, from Erik. It sounded like a real emergency. Erik just mentioned a location and Azazel just pulled the car over on the side of the road. Before he teleported, he told me to keep going. And then about fifteen minutes later, Azazel said that he was taking Erik and Emma to the hospital.’

‘Why?’

‘I didn’t understand at first. I thought Erik was still in Philadelphia, maybe he got hurt in a car accident or something. But why would Emma be there? Then Azazel told me that he had picked them up from a house in bloody Bangkok.’

‘Bangkok, Thailand?’ Charles asked. That didn’t make any sense to him. When did Erik go?

‘I didn’t even know that they went to Bangkok. Erik gave me a couple of weeks off, and Azazel and I were spending a little time away together before we went to Westchester. I was going to introduce him to you.’

‘As …?’ Charles snapped, even though he knew what was coming.

‘My boyfriend,’ Raven said.

‘And how long have you been together?’

‘Two years now,’ Raven said quietly.

Charles squeezed his hands around the steering wheel to keep from strangling Raven. ‘Nice of you to keep me out of it,’ he said tightly. ‘Why is Erik at the hospital?’

‘He got hurt badly, Charles,’ Raven said. ‘I’m not sure how, or why. All Azazel said was that he passed out, and Emma was unconscious too. They looked like they were beaten up quite badly. But no one bests them in a fight,’ Raven said. ‘It’s not even possible.’

‘Unless it was Shaw,’ Charles said.

Raven folded her face into her hands. ‘It was highly likely, I think. Probably what’s happened was that Erik and Emma tracked Shaw to Bangkok, and were attempting to take him out, but they got hurt instead. I don’t know why they didn’t tell us before that.’

‘How bad are their injuries?’

‘Azazel isn’t completely sure. The doctors are too busy working on them to tell him anything. That’s why I’m going down there. I mean, we are. I need to find out if they’re OK.’

‘Why didn’t you just go with Azazel and teleport to the hospital?’ Charles asked.

Raven slunk down in her seat slightly. ‘Because … I’ve been avoiding teleportation or shape-shifting. Because of the baby.’

Charles slammed his elbow against his window and bit his tongue. Seconds ticked by. ‘How far along are you?’

‘Five months.’

Charles swore.

‘I was going to tell you this weekend, Charles! That’s why I came up here. I wanted to introduce you to Azazel, and tell you about my pregnancy …’ she trailed off, lamely. ‘I definitely didn’t want to do it this way.’

‘I’m surprised you didn’t wait until you gave birth to tell me,’ Charles said sarcastically. ‘How long have you been working closely with Erik?’

Raven bit her lip. ‘Three years ago. After your accident. He pulled me onto the team at first, because he wanted updates from me. About you. But I think he thought my mutation was unique. I saw how much you were struggling, Charles. And how I was so useless. I couldn’t help you. But Erik wanted to find the man who did this to you. So I started working with him … more.’

‘Him and Emma Frost and Azazel, I’m guessing?’ Charles said flatly. And it finally occurred to him that this was what Erik was hesitant to tell him just the other night. That he had involved Raven in his illegal, criminal activities. The nerve of that man, Charles thought. Anger warred with concern inside of him. ‘Have you been helping him track down Shaw?’

Raven’s silence was damning enough. Charles seethed inside. Bloody Erik Lehnsherr.

Less than an hour later, he was back at the place where he never would have thought he would ever be again. The New York-Presbyterian Hospital physically looked the same to him, but wheeling over the threshold dredged up a lot of depressing memories.

Azazel met them at the private wing of the hospital, in the two rooms at the end of the corridor, where Charles noted with some relief, was a completely opposite direction of where he was the last time.

‘How are they?’ Raven rushed to Azazel, hugged him.

‘Emma is in an induced coma, the doctor said. And Erik is hurt badly,’ Azazel said succinctly. ‘But doctor will come over to talk in a few minutes, she promised. You remember her?’ he said, talking to Charles.

Charles sighed. At least they were under the care of a very competent doctor.

‘Charles Xavier. Never thought I would see you again,’ came a voice from behind him.

Charles turned the wheelchair around. ‘I was going to say the same exact thing, Dr. Reyes.’

The intervening years had been kind to Cecilia Reyes, who had always been a stunner anyway. Charles noted that she had grown her hair out, and she was wearing icepick heels and a pencil skirt under a fitted sweater. As usual, she looked brisk and professional.

‘I recognized your friend there when he came in,’ Dr. Reyes said.

‘He’s lucky then, to have the best trauma surgeon in the city.’

‘I wouldn’t say the best,’ Dr. Reyes smiled.

‘The best,’ Charles insisted. ‘Would you be able to tell us anything? Anything at all?’

Charles could see Dr. Reyes considering the situation. On one hand, she had met them three years ago and had been partial witness to the way Erik Lehnsherr had been such a devoted partner to the newly paralyzed Charles. But between the two men there was never an official acknowledgement of what they were. So she settled for something in between.

‘I can’t give you the specifics since you’re not family, Charles. Erik’s suffered trauma to his arm, chest, ribs and abdomen. He looked like he has been in a brawl – with a car. He will make a full recovery, of course, but it’s going to be painful.’

‘How about Emma?’

‘Again, no specifics,’ Dr. Reyes said. ‘Severe head trauma and a lot of internal bleeding from multiple organ perforations. At first they looked like bullet wounds, but then we couldn’t find any bullets at all. She looks like she has been shot two or three times. No lasting damage, although we had to put her in an induced coma to help reduce the swelling in her brain.’

‘When will Erik wake up?’

‘I would like him to rest for a few hours, to give him time to rest and let his body do its job. We can try easing off the painkillers later in the evening and see how he goes. Mind you, when he does surface, he will be in a lot of pain.’

‘Thank you, Dr. Reyes,’ Charles said, shaking her hand.

‘It’s always lovely to see you, even under such circumstances,’ Dr. Reyes said. ‘I’ll check back in a little later. Make yourself comfortable.’

Charles turned to Raven and Azazel. ‘How the fuck did this happen?’

Azazel shrugged his massive shoulders. ‘Erik did not have time to say. I just took a look at them and brought them to the hospital. Had to make three jumps to make it back here.’

Jesus, what a mess. Charles turned to Azazel. ‘Has Erik’s mother been contacted yet?’

‘No. His emergency contact is Emma and me. And hers are Erik and Raven.’

‘You four and your merry little band,’ Charles said derisively. ‘When were you planning to tell Edie?’

‘It’s up to Erik. He’s specifically instructed that Edie would only be informed in case of his death.’

Charles laughed, shaking his head. The rage he held at Erik at landing himself into such a bind coalesced with the anger he bore from the last argument they had before they parted. And yet it all melted away when he wheeled into Erik’s room, and saw Erik asleep in the hospital bed.

Charles nearly shuddered as the trauma of being in a hospital again rolled through him. The agony of the experience, both physical and mental, had been unbearable. He ran his hand gently down Erik’s bruised jaw, before pressing a small kiss to his cheek. And then was shocked when his own tears began spilling down his own cheeks.

‘You bloody idiot,’ he whispered.

He settled down to wait until Erik woke up.

Azazel and Raven came into the room, and Charles found it difficult to look Raven in the eye. But something just occurred to him. ‘Do you need to check if Erik’s family is safe?’

Raven worried her lip before she spoke. ‘Erik’s estate is fairly well protected, and Kitty knows to take them in case of an emergency. His house is like a fortress.’

‘Full of metal, I know. But it isn’t as defensible if Erik isn’t there to defend them. Azazel, maybe you should make a trip to check on them, maybe put them on high alert. Is there anyone you can send to keep an eye on them?’

Azazel nodded, and teleported away.

Charles himself made a call to Logan to check that everything was all right, and to keep close together until further notice.

It was shortly before nine at night when Dr. Reyes checked on Erik and dialed back his pain meds, allowing him to slowly surface on his own accord.

Erik’s gaze slowly honed in on him as he surfaced. Charles could see that he was fighting off a tremendous amount of pain. ‘Oh,’ Erik said.

‘Oh?’ Charles stretched out to put his hand over Erik’s. Erik squeezed his back, weakly.

It was an eternity before Erik could coherently form a single sentence in a raspy whisper.

‘Goddamn Azazel. I told him specifically not to let you know.’

That surprised a watery laugh out of Charles.


	10. Chapter 10

The next couple of weeks passed in a whirlwind, and a blur.

Erik forced himself to rise above the painkillers. He had to get better, faster. He sweated and grunted through every pain that his healing body inflicted on him. When it became unbearable, he would retreat into himself and dig deep. During this period, his latent abilities became less controlled, and the effects began to show up in his hospital suite.

The metal cabinet had begun to warp into some indefinable shape, while his bed wouldn’t recline or lift anymore – he had melted the mechanisms down during one particularly bad night, when he had turned in the bed and felt an unexpected wrench inside his abdomen. Turned out that he had torn a stitch, which did not impress Dr. Reyes.

He knew Charles would not approve – he could see it in his eyes. ‘There’s no hurry to get anywhere,’ Charles said. ‘You have to take care of yourself first.’

But Charles was wrong. He needed to recover, and every minute he was still under the influence of drugs meant the people he cared about were in potential danger. He was under no delusion that he was the strongest out of all of them in terms of offensive capability. Raven, Azazel, Emma had defensive abilities that were more suitable for covert warfare, and he was terrified that Shaw would come for them now that they were defenseless.

If he was weak, he couldn’t protect anyone – not his mother, not his children, not his friends, and certainly not Charles.

In the past, he had risen through mental and physical agony to gain the upper hand. He cultivated enough influence and power to ensure his family would always be safe, and in many ways, had paid the ultimate price again and again just to attain this ideal. Was it worth it? Erik no longer knew.

Charles seemed to be able to sense Erik’s anger at his own helplessness, and had put his own plans into motion in order to try, in his own way, to assuage some of Erik’s insecurities. He had negotiated with Dr. Reyes to discharge Erik and Emma into his care, to be transported by ambulance to his home in Westchester, where he had already arranged for Erik’s family to join them. If they were all under one roof, Shaw was unlikely to attempt anything. It also gave Erik the peace of mind he needed to focus on his own recovery.

Erik had to agree that it was a good plan. But it wasn’t until the drugs thinned out that he gained enough mental clarity to wonder why Charles would willingly come to his aid, when he had been so stridently opposed to what Erik did.

It was only days later when he finally wondered if, maybe, Charles finally understood that part of Erik that could not rest until Shaw was dead.

But it was soon clear that it was the right plan, because once Erik got to Charles’s house, he could finally relax. It did wonders for his recovery, and less than two weeks after the beginning of his hospitalization, he got up one misty morning, pulled on a waterproof jacket, and went for a run around the grounds.

It was horrible, and difficult, but he completed a whole hour’s run nonetheless. He returned to the house feeling like he was near death, bent over with pain. As he walked into the kitchen, he saw Charles sitting at the dining table, sipping from a tea cup. He could see the disapproval practically emanating from Charles. But he didn’t say a thing.

So Erik took a seat next to him in silence, working on regulating his breathing.

Charles turned to him, and pressed a kiss against his unshaven cheek. Erik turned instinctively, and caught Charles’s lips, tasting the warm minty taste of the peppermint tea he had been drinking. He felt Charles’s tongue invade his mouth, and Erik could feel himself turned on by Charles’s apparent aggressiveness. He lifted his arm to draw Charles closer to him when the twinge in his side acted up and Erik broke off, panting through the pain with a fair amount of indignity.

Charles only lifted his cup back to his lips, bemused and smug at the same time. ‘You’re not ready for a run yet, Erik.’

‘I’ll be fine, Charles.’

‘Dr. Reyes is coming up tomorrow to check on the both of you. I don’t want to be told off just because you won’t listen to doctor’s orders.’

‘Hank’s always just saying the same thing. There’s only so much rest I can take,’ Erik complained. Henry McCoy was a teacher at Charles’s school, but he was also a medically-trained doctor and a scientist. That was a big part of the reason why Dr. Reyes had allowed an early discharge. She had handed over her notes to the very nervous Dr. McCoy. While his competence was not in dispute, his confidence could be found wanting. Which was good for Erik, because he routinely bullied Hank into allowing him to do what he wanted.

‘That’s because you need to rest,’ Charles said, rather exasperatedly.

After a short pause, Erik brought up a topic that he had avoided for the past two weeks, pretty much capitalizing on the fact that Charles had been especially kind to him during this period of convalescence. ‘I know you’re angry at me.’

‘Not angry,’ Charles corrected. ‘I’m beyond infuriated at you.’

Erik ran a hand through his damp hair. He was aware of exactly how much leeway Charles was allowing him. So he took it. He went back upstairs and had a shower, then literally crashed into the bed for the next four hours.

He felt stronger every day. Charles must have been paying Dr. Reyes a handsome fee for her to come up to Westchester on her off day to check on them. Emma was doing better, having come out of her coma with minimal damage to her body. She had been encouraged to stay in bed while her body healed, and she was content to do so, spending time with her phone and dialing up the drugs whenever possible.

He had a quiet lunch by himself out in the beautiful patio overlooking the pristine gardens, and had just pushed the empty plate away when his mother walked out to join him.

Something deep inside him actually cringed and slunk away as he watched her approach. She was a genteel, soft-spoken woman, but she was his mother, and had the ability to sow fear inside him at any given opportunity. She had that determined expression on her face, and he knew that she had ambushed him precisely for a chance to give him hell. For the past week, he had gotten away with just simple greetings in form of a hug or a quick word when they had crossed paths. Charles had isolated him and Emma in another wing of the house where the children would not encounter the injured patients, and they would have all the peace and quiet they need to recover.

‘Erik,’ Edie said, taking a seat opposite him.

‘ _Mutter_ ,’ Erik said, steeling himself for an incoming verbal slap-down.

Instead, she stared at him, her eyes boring holes into him until he literally incriminated himself.

‘I know you’re angry. But I’m safe. It won’t happen again.’

‘Why? Because you’ll be dead the next time?’ Edie said. ‘Sebastian Shaw will finish what he started?’

Fuck. His mother did not pull her punches. Erik clenched his jaw. ‘No.’

‘Isn’t it time to give this up, Erik? It’s been long enough. You’ve held your grudges long enough. Maybe it’s time to let them go, to let him go. You have your children to think of. And seeing you like this … my heart hurts. Magda wouldn’t want you to die because of her.’

‘It’s not just about Magda.’

‘I know. It’s about Charles too, isn’t it?’

Erik stared down, looking anywhere but at her. ‘How did you know?’

Edie threw up her hands. ‘ _Ach_ , Erik! I’m your mother. I know everything! You don’t think the last time I saw Charles he was still walking with his legs, and then after that I don’t see him for years and the next time I see him again he’s in a wheelchair? And that all these years you’ve been so miserable that you’ve stopped eating and stopped using your metal-sense? I figured out you must have something to do with his injury, and you’ve been beating yourself up ever since. I might be old but I’m not stupid.’

Erik played with the plate in front of him, tracing the edge with a finger. ‘I hurt him so much, mama. All those things I did … I never once thought it could hurt me. I would die a hundred times over if I could stop those bad things happening to Magda or Charles. But I can’t. So I have to make do with the only thing I can do. Find the man responsible so he can never do it to anyone else ever again.’

Edie got up, walked over and hugged Erik’s face to her stomach. He breathed in her scent, that smell of clean linen and the same washing powder she always used and that maternal warmth, and the unconditional love and lack of judgment that only a mother could provide.

‘Oh, my darling. You’ve never had much luck with your love life, have you? So much suffering.’ Edie patted him. ‘I know what it is like to love, Erik. And what suffering it comes with when you lose. I never wished this for you. But I don’t want you to be afraid of love, _Liebchen_. There are very little pleasures in this world.  You have to take what you have and keep it safe.’

‘I don’t know if I still have him,’ Erik brooded.

‘Well, I don’t know about that. But I don’t think he would volunteer to shelter you, to shelter us, if he felt nothing for you. That Charles is a very nice boy. _Goy_ , but lovely anyway. Besides, he has such a beautiful house. Not like ours.’

Erik lifted his head from his mother’s shirt. ‘What’s wrong with our house?’

Edie shrugged. ‘All that metal everywhere. They always carry so much static in them, always shocking my hand. And some of them are very ugly.’

‘ _Mutter_!’ Erik said, scandalized.

Edie shrugged neutrally. ‘No matter what you do I will always love and support you. So go and finish this so you can continue your life in peace. My only wish is that I do not wish to bury you in my lifetime.’ She pressed a fierce kiss to his head, and moved away from him, taking the empty plate with her as she returned to the house.

Erik tried to envision a life after Shaw. It was difficult to imagine, because he had spent so much of his life thinking about Shaw. In the beginning of his career, when he had joined Shaw Industries, he had looked up to the man with adulation and respect. And in those days, Shaw seemed like a rock god. He was effortlessly charming, wealthy and successful, and his subordinates respected him. He was always generous with money, and would chuck large amounts of it towards everyone that worked for him.

Erik had pretty much started in the mailroom after his father died in an accident. Sebastian Shaw had been his father’s employer. He had come to the funeral, which Erik found to be a great source of pride and honor during a very difficult time.

He had taken Erik aside at the wake, and placed his hand on Erik’s shoulder, looking very sorry for his loss indeed. Jakob Lehnsherr had only worked in one of the factories, and his salary was small but comfortable to support his family. Without him, they were in real trouble. The insurance company had already refused a payout, because the toxicology report had come back with traces of medication found in his body at the time of the accident. So things were getting desperate.

Until Shaw slipped him an envelope full of cash, enough to pay off a couple months’ mortgage and pay for the utilities, giving him a chance to find a job and to support his family. And when he found that a 17 year old barely out of high school could hardly find a full time job that paid more than peanuts, he had turned to Shaw, who had given him a job.

Slowly, Erik began to catch Shaw’s attention. Shaw genuinely found his mutation very fascinating, and started taking him along to various jobs. At first, they were simple things, like helping to find and fix the malfunction in one of his steel-producing factories, then later, slightly shadier things, like moving ominous-looking boxes of shipments and loading them onto the a ship. He found out later that some of them carried cocaine.

Then one night he got called out to a factory where he had fixed the broken mechanical arm months ago. He walked into the dark building, following only the light from his mobile phone. He saw Shaw standing over the unmoving body of a man. And Shaw said, ‘Erik, you’ve got to help me. This man attacked me with a knife, but I managed to overpower him and he fell over and hit his head. He’s dead. You need to help me bury him. I need your help.’

Erik did not ask how, or why, or who the man was. He did not ask why of all people, Shaw called him. And he certainly did not ask if they should have called the police. Instead, he remembered how this man had tucked an envelope full of cash into the pocket of his only good suit that was a little too big for him. It had been his late father’s.

So he found heavy steel chains, rolled it over and under the man, and carried it to the port, where he threw both the man and the chains into the water, using his powers to send them far out to sea, and ensuring that he would sink deep into the depths beyond any chance of recovery.

And when it was done, and he stood with Shaw who was smoking a cigar by the water. Haltingly, in a small voice, he asked, ‘Why did he attack you?’

Shaw puffed out a cloud of smoke. And in a supremely unaffected voice, he said, ‘Oh. He wanted what was in my pockets.’ He jingled a pocket with his free hand, and pulled out a silver coin. He tossed it into the air towards Erik, who caught it easily.

‘He wanted a dollar?’ Erik asked, trying but failing to hide the horror in his tone.

‘Hey, kid. It’s a silver dollar, uncirculated, from a private collection. It’s estimated to be worth a couple of thousand dollars. Keep it. It’s yours.’

The man had been killed over a coin that Shaw didn’t want anyway. Erik felt nauseated.

And he knew then, as he watched the rising sun come up over the horizon, that he was damned. He had willingly disposed of the body, as well as any evidence, while Sebastian Shaw watched without lifting a finger. He had willingly bound himself to servitude for Shaw. And then one cover up became two, and then three, and then after six, he stopped counting. He was only 18 at the time.

By the time he had turned 20, he stopped doing the disposals and started doing the actual crimes himself. Shaw either coerced or cajoled him into it, but there was no denying that Erik was the one who did it, willingly or reluctantly. He didn’t know if it was out of stupidity or a strange sense of loyalty to the man who gave him so much. But by then, he could afford to buy his mother a nice car and a lovely new house.

He spent another ten years working for Shaw and becoming his right-hand man until one day, he realized that he was being used. Oh, the humiliation of it, of being outsmarted by this cunning man was too much to even take for one more day. So Erik turned the tables on Shaw. He exposed the man to the law, took his assets, and his people.

And Shaw had been gunning for him ever since. He hit Erik harder. He killed Magda, and he hurt Charles.

Erik vowed to himself that even though he may not always outsmart the bastard, he would always outlast him.

But this time, the tide had turned. He knew something had changed.

They had barely escaped with their lives at the previous encounter, but he knew the next would be the end, and it would be soon. After all, Shaw had lost his telepathy-blocking helmet, which was one of biggest reasons why Erik was unable to find him. All Erik had to do now was find him, and kill him once and for all.


	11. Chapter 11

It had been an exhausting day, and Charles was looking forward to finally having a little time to himself. Half an hour ago, he had just finished a nice warm bath. It had been three weeks since the household population at the Westchester Manor had more than doubled.

Although the students weren’t due back yet, it seemed like every day had become louder and noisier. It was everything David could want. He had been an only child, and that had been a very lonely existence at times, just him and his father. But now, every day was a party. He had a rollicking amount of fun with Erik’s children, watched over by the ever reliable Logan, who seemed to have a certain flair for caring for children even though he looked like he hated it. David seemed to have made it his personal mission to make sure that summer went out with a bang.

He had just transferred into his bed and had tucked the sheets over himself when he heard a knock at the door. He put his book back on the bedside table and looked up. ‘Come in,’ he called out.

The door knob turned and the door swung open slowly to reveal Erik, who had a lowball glass filled with two fingers of scotch in each hand, and something large and flat underneath one arm. ‘Nightcap?’

Charles nodded, and accepted one of the glasses, and took a sip. It went down very smoothly, like he thought it would. Erik must have raided the scotch in his study, where he kept the best stuff. Erik carefully took up position on the bed, at his feet.

‘Would you like me to get out of bed?’ Charles asked politely. Erik shook his head cordially.

Every interaction they had had in the past three weeks had been slightly awkward and overly polite. It was nothing obvious, just like a note that was a little out of tune, but had the effect of causing a discordant melody. They had been out of step with each other, but for once, not having any impassioned arguments, which Charles was quite glad about, but on the other hand, it meant no sex either.

Charles could do with a little less of that.

Erik shook his head, but he laid down the flat thing he was holding. It was one of those huge versions of a portable chess set with magnetic pieces and a board, one that the children would play with. Charles knew that he had found it in the recreation room. He put down the plastic board, and set up the pieces so they were just within Charles’s reach.

‘What’s the occasion?’ Charles asked.

Erik shrugged. ‘Just wanted to say thank you for putting up with us in your home.’

‘So you reward me with my own scotch and make me play a game of chess with you just before bed?’ Charles teased.

‘I guess,’ Erik said. ‘But I also thought we could talk.’

Charles sized Erik up, and took another sip of his drink. ‘You want to talk,’ he said, less of a question and more of a statement. He made his opening move and moved a pawn forward.

‘Yes,’ Erik replied. ‘I’m working up the courage to it, though,’ he admitted.

‘Take your time,’ Charles said. ‘I’m not going anywhere. Is there anything I can help to make you more comfortable?’ He put down his glass on the bedside table, and started moving his queen after Erik’s move with his pawn. He looked up only to catch Erik’s bold, heavy-lidded gaze staring at him.

‘There is something you can help me with, but you’re probably not going to like it,’ Erik said.

Charles let his tongue briefly touch his lower lip. ‘And what would that be?’

Suddenly the tension in the room became palpable, almost vibrating with a magnetic attraction.              

Erik cleared his throat. ‘Why don’t we play for it?’

‘Oh?’ Charles said.

‘The truth is, I’ve been wanting to have you for quite a while now, but I know you haven’t been a fan of that idea.’

‘Because you were injured, and a recovering patient,’ Charles pointed out. ‘Also, I’m still quite ticked off with you.’

‘I know. But I really want to fuck you. I can’t think clearly, and I certainly have trouble saying anything of significance when I see you in that.’ Erik pointed to Charles.

He looked down at his clothes.  A stripy blue and black top over matching pants. ‘What, my pajamas?’

‘No, those,’ Erik leaned forward and tapped a finger lightly against the rim of Charles’s glasses.

‘My reading glasses?’ Charles smiled. ‘I didn’t know they turned you on.’

‘You look like a sexy librarian,’ Erik remarked. ‘So if I win, I get to fuck you with your glasses on. And if you win, I’ll do anything you want.’

Charles looked down at the chess board and moved another pawn. ‘So you mean, you’ll get sex either way. But I don’t know if we could wait that long.’

Erik leaned across the bed and put his glass down next to Charles’s. ‘You’re right. I can’t.’ He shoved the board to the floor, scattering the pieces, surprising a startled laugh out of Charles.

Charles watched Erik pounce on him, imprisoning him against the bed with his arms, pressing him deeper into the mattress. Caged inside that tense body was all the restless and uneasy energy waiting to escape, waiting to be spent. He pressed that practically vibrating body against Charles’s, and Charles enjoyed the way those glorious muscles pressed a familiar tattoo against his own body, as if they could transmit the depth of Erik’s lust just by touch alone.

‘I’ve missed you,’ Erik murmured against Charles’s ear as he traced a tongue down the nape of his neck. ‘I’ve been thinking about you, sleeping in your bed, taking you while you’re half-asleep.’

Charles moaned underneath Erik’s touch, writhing his body just as Erik bit down on the sensitive skin of his flesh. He held on as Erik drifted downwards, as hungry to give pleasure as he was to take it. He drew Charles’s pants down past his knees and used his hands and tongue to slowly awaken Charles to a full erection.

It took a while, but they got there under Erik’s surprisingly patient ministrations. By then, Charles was feeling a little wild-eyed, stretched a little too thin with the pleasure riffing against the rest of his healthy nerves, which were now screaming under the sensory overload. His fingers dug deeply into his pillow, stifling a scream even as Erik brought him so close to the edge before he pulled back.

Charles knew what Erik wanted, and he said quickly, ‘Second drawer,’ where Erik yanked it open with impatience, found condoms and lube. He stared at the box of condoms.

‘What the fuck are you doing?’ Charles said, a little too frantically.

Erik began tearing the plastic of the unopened box of condoms open. ‘How long have these been sitting around for?’ he asked, almost conversationally.

Charles wanted to scream at the banality of it. ‘A couple of years now. Hurry, Erik.’

‘You haven’t done anything with anyone else?’ Erik asked.

‘Of course not!’

‘Why?’

Charles glanced at Erik, and saw with some disbelief that he was serious. ‘How could I, when you were the only one I think about every day?’ he hissed out through gritted teeth. ‘If you don’t hurry, I’ll finish without you,’ he threatened.

Erik looked absurdly touched. Charles was so close to smacking him.

Then he unwrapped the condoms and tore one off, and squirted a handful of lube onto Charles, massaging and stretching him out and hitting all his pleasure points until he could no longer see straight or muster up enough coherence to speak.

Erik supported Charles’s weight up against his shoulders, and roughly thrust in, the force of his entry almost slamming Charles back against the headboard. Charles leaned into the sensations, letting the rhythm of their coupling rock him into a spectacular finish. Erik followed soon after, groaning out his release even as his hips ground against Charles’s limp body.

They were both covered in a sheen of sweat, and the smile of the satiated on their faces. Erik rolled off Charles, which made him grunt. ‘I can’t believe you’re still feeling athletic after that,’ he said.

Erik propped himself up on one elbow and turned to Charles. ‘If you give me a bit of time, I think I can muster up enough energy for round two.’

Charles groaned, watching his spent cock twitching weakly. ‘I’m done for the night,’ he said. ‘Serves me right for dating a younger man.’

Erik pulled up closer to him. ‘You’re not that much older,’ he murmured.

Charles had drifted into a state of drowsy relaxation when he remembered something. ‘You said you needed to talk.’

Erik lifted his head slightly from against Charles’s side. ‘What?’ he murmured sleepily.

Charles rolled his eyes. He poked Erik until he woke up and cleaned the both of them. And then while Charles dozed, Erik slid back into bed and cuddled him.

He didn’t have the heart to force Erik to have a conversation that Charles personally didn’t want anyway. So he closed his eyes, and gave Erik a reprieve until morning.

He awoke at the crack of dawn, burrowing closer to the human furnace that was Erik. Then he realized what he was doing.

The feeling of having someone to wake up next to was almost indescribable. It was like filling a hole inside that you didn’t even know existed. It was so simple, so domestic. And next to him, Erik was dreaming, his body lax in repose. It occurred to him that Charles was probably the only person in the world who saw Erik like he was now, vulnerable and soft in his sleep. His daytime alter ego, like a suit of armor, all aggression and bullishness and intense sexuality and alpha maleness, vanished like it had never existed at all. No one else held the same privilege.

Charles felt both honored and scared, because if there was one thing he had learnt from his relationship with Erik, it was one thing to love a man and end up leaving him because they were on different paths. But it was quite another to want to have a life, a future with the same man. He now had a real stake in the relationship.

He had spent far too long being afraid of the future and getting hurt. But he had, and it wasn’t even the worst thing that happened to him. He knew no matter what, he was strong enough, tough enough to survive anything. Perhaps it was the intervening years, or the sum of his experiences, or his disability. Something had taught him that there was no space in his life for fear. The only one stopping them from having a relationship was is in fact, not Erik. It was both humiliating and humbling to realize that the obstacle has been himself all along.

That very early morning, he made eggs and pancakes and set them out on the patio where he knew Erik usually had breakfast, waiting as he sipped his morning cup of peppermint tea, looking out beyond the gardens. In the distance, he could see as two figures emerged from the other wing of the house, wave to him briefly, and walk to the tennis court. Charles squinted, and was able to watch Jean Grey whup Scott Summers, winning a game with Scott barely putting up a fight.

The two of them together cracked him up. They were such talented young people, with beautiful, glorious futures ahead of them. Charles wished he had even one ounce of their foresight when he had been at that age. He was still chuckling when Erik pulled up a chair and sat opposite him.

‘What are you laughing about?’ Erik asked, pouring himself a cup of tea from the teapot in the middle of the table.

‘Jean and Scott,’ Charles said. ‘They’re adorable, and crazy for each other. I was just wondering what if we met at their age instead of … now, really.’

‘We would be terrible for each other,’ Erik said wryly. ‘At that age, I was playing fast and loose with my life.’

‘Same,’ Charles said. ‘I spent so many nights drunk and waking up with a massive hangover, then attempting to finish my assignments. So much time wasted.’

Erik tipped his head at the cloches. ‘What’s under there?’

Charles leaned forward to pull them off.

‘Hmm,’ Erik said, with obvious approval, and began to help himself. They ate in a comfortable silence, but when Erik put down his knife and fork, Charles put his down too, and waited.

‘Before anything else, I wanted to let you know that I’m very grateful for what you’ve done, for me and my family. I know the risks you took in order to keep us here. I wanted to also apologize for the way I left. I know I’m always pushing for more. I’m not the most patient man, I never have been.’

There was a stunned silence. ‘Why, this must be a red-letter day in this household. Did you … actually apologize?’

Erik shrugged. ‘I apologize when I’m wrong. I’m just very rarely wrong.’

Charles smiled. ‘There’s the Erik I know.’

‘I’ve had so much time to myself, to think, to slow down. I’ve had to reevaluate a few things. And the fact is, I know exactly what I want. I just realize that my delivery hasn’t always been the best,’ Erik paused, as if trying to pluck out the best words in order to form his next sentence.

It took a very long time.

Charles sighed, and decided to cut him some slack.

‘It’s OK, Erik. I know,’ he said.

Erik looked up. ‘What?’ he asked, completely confused.

‘I know what you’re about to say,’ Charles said. ‘It’s all right. I promise.’

‘How?’

Charles evaded the question. ‘I know you want to ask me to wait for you while you go looking for Shaw. You want me to seriously reconsider my decision. And when you are done with him, you want us to start having a real relationship.’

Erik looked surprised, then almost relieved that the words didn’t have to come out of his mouth personally.

‘Don’t be scared,’ Charles said.

‘Why wouldn’t I be?’ Erik said. ‘You’ve said no to me every time. And it hurts, every single time.’

‘Well, I’m sorry.’

‘So if you know my question, do you know your answer? Will you consider it?’

‘Good lord. You just don’t know the meaning of quitting, do you? You’ve been asking the same thing again and again, just phrased differently. What makes you think I’ll say yes this time?’ Charles asked mildly.

Erik thought about it. ‘Because something’s different between you and me. I think you’ve actually changed your mind.’

Charles fiddled with the blanket on his lap. ‘I have.’

‘You have,’ Erik repeated, uncomprehendingly. ‘You have?’

‘Yes. I am agreeable to having a serious relationship with you, that includes dating, cohabitation, sex, with the grand possibility of marriage to you for the rest of our natural-born lives,’ Charles said lightly.

‘You are?’ Erik said. He looked stunned. Clearly he wasn’t expecting it.

‘Yes.’ Charles allowed some time for his decision to sink in.

‘After I kill Shaw,’ Erik said.

‘Yes,’ Charles affirmed. He poured himself another cup of tea.

Now Erik look beyond stunned. He was simply in shock, and he did nothing to hide it. He leaned back against the chair. Then he leaned forward. ‘I think you will have to explain to me what prompted this change of heart. None of my conditions have changed, but your decision has.’

‘It’s not your earth-shattering stubbornness that changed my mind, in case you were wondering,’ Charles said dryly. ‘Nor your big dick. Although that is a lovely perk, I have to admit.’

‘Then what?’ Erik said.

‘Well, the day that you were brought to the hospital, while you were sleeping, I took a little peek into your head.’

It wasn’t completely true. He had dived right in, partly out of anger, and partly out of the motivation to understand what could drive Erik to this madness where he was nearly beaten to death. Technically, he still had Erik’s permission from three years ago to read his mind while he was sleeping. It was a loose technicality, but to Charles, it held nonetheless. And what he had found gave him a whole new perspective on Erik.

‘Right,’ Erik said, measured in his response. If he was offended, he did not show it. ‘And what did you find?’

‘A few things. For instance, I found out why you’ve been so desperate to get Shaw, besides what he did to Magda, and to me. And why you decided to leave Shaw and forge your own path.’

Erik gently placed his teacup back onto the saucer. ‘I was sick of working for him and doing all of his dirty work. Day in, day out, I was dirtying my hands while he sat back and watched me.’

‘I was speaking of what happened to your father,’ Charles said gently.

Erik’s gaze shuttered over immediately. ‘You said you took a little peek,’ he replied coolly. ‘You didn’t say you went in deep.’

Charles kept his eyes on Erik, trying to show only compassion and understanding. It had the effect of thawing out Erik’s defensiveness, albeit rather grudgingly.

Erik took a couple of deep breaths before continuing, like a man who was getting ready to free dive into icy waters on a single breath.

‘I found out that Shaw was the one who arranged the car accident that killed my father. He also blocked our insurance claims, and that’s why we never got a payout. He offered me a job, knowing that we were in dire straits. He single-handedly created the tragedy just so I would work for him.’

‘And all for what? Because he had seen me using my abilities with metal. All that pain and suffering that he had inflicted on us, Charles, because he wanted an idiot who could do fucking magic tricks with metal. Do you know how angry I was when I found out? I should have killed him then. But I didn’t. Instead, I tried to hurt him, like he had hurt me and my family. I took everything he had. But I forgot that I was dealing with a mad man. Someone who has no concept of pain.’

Erik hastily wiped away the angry tears that had leaked out from the corner of his eyes. ‘I have never told my mother about this.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because I was ashamed. Because I still am ashamed. My powers have brought nothing but suffering. My father died because I had an ability that could be weaponized. My wife died because of my arrogance, and my inability to protect her. And you. Your legs. It was my abilities that did this. I can control metal, but yet all the people I love were felled by metal – cars, guns, bullets. Do you see the irony?’ Erik laughed bitterly. ‘Irony. Get it? The word was probably invented for my life. The universe thinks my life is one big joke.’ 

Charles nodded. ‘Is that why you’ve stopped using your powers?’

Erik rubbed his face. ‘It didn’t feel right. For so many reasons. I didn’t know who I would hurt next.’

‘That’s why you made a promise to yourself. The next time you would use your powers was when you saw Shaw again. Oh, Erik. Darling,’ Charles said, feeling only pity for the suffering that Erik had inflicted on himself. ‘What happened to your father was unfair. He didn’t deserve it. Your family didn’t. It was a terrible thing that happened, but it was the choice of a very bad man who no scruples or morals. It wasn’t your fault.’

‘And Magda was a casualty of Shaw’s retaliation. I’m not saying it was right or deserved in any way, but don’t take her sacrifice away from her. She went out to meet the intruders willingly to defend her children. I think she knew what she was doing. She sacrificed herself so they could live. She was a mother, and she made a choice. You shouldn’t take it away from her and carry the fault upon your own shoulders. I don’t think that would be what she wanted.’

Charles reached over and stretched out as far as the immobile lower half of his body would allow. ‘As for my legs … they were an accident. I know it was an accident, and you have been punishing yourself every day since then. Of course it was better if it hadn’t happened, and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. But I’ve changed. I found something inside of myself that I believe makes me a better person. It’s shown me that the pain of the body has no hold over my spirit.’

‘I’ve forgiven you, Erik. And I don’t think Magda and your father would have blamed you for any of it. It’s time for you to forgive yourself.’

Charles fell silent even as Erik fell apart in front of him.

He realized that Erik had never openly wept in front of him before. He knew it had to be a very vulnerable moment for someone who had built up a fortified wall of armor to shield himself against the losses that had shaken the very foundations of his life and the fundamental belief in himself. It was all Charles could do to hold himself back, to let Erik cry, honestly and truthfully.

He knew the healing powers of tears, the outpouring of sorrow and grief and misery; and how they had the ability to break down the walls that you had built, to hollow you out from inside so you could move on, rebuild a stronger foundation that would withstand the often senseless iniquities and cataclysms of life.

So Charles waited, patiently and enduringly, without judgment or pity. He sat there, unmoving, until Erik was ready.


	12. Chapter 12

It was a long while before Erik could finally lift his head. He swiped away his tears with his hands. Charles took out a handkerchief from his pocket and passed it over.

‘I’m sorry,’ Erik said hoarsely, in more ways than one.

‘I know,’ Charles said. ‘There’s nothing else to forgive, darling.’

Erik tucked the sodden cloth into his pocket, feeling raw and exposed. Charles wheeled over to him, and gave him a side hug, which Erik willingly leaned into. Anything to keep Charles from seeing his face.

‘So you’re serious about wanting to have a future with me?’ Erik whispered, keeping his puffy eyes closed,

‘Yes,’ Charles said. ‘I realize now that I’ve been commitment-shy for far too long, but it seems that we’re never quite done with each other no matter how many times we say we are. I’ve decided to give it a chance.’

Erik quietly listened to Charles’s heartbeat, his arms firmly enveloping Erik’s body.

‘With a couple of caveats,’ Charles finished.

Erik lifted his head. ‘Oh?’ he asked, guardedly.

‘Firstly, the matter of my sister,’ Charles said.

Shit, Erik thought to himself. ‘How much do you know?’

Charles gave him a swift and dirty glare. ‘I know everything. So here’s what I want. I would like her to be taken off any assignments you have for her and return her to a role where she has nothing to do with the, um, how shall we say, the dodgy side of your business.’

‘For the duration of her pregnancy?’ Erik asked.

‘For the duration of her employment at your business,’ Charles retorted.

Erik thought about it. ‘Very well. But only with her consent. She’s willingly helped me this far, Charles. And I won’t remove her without her permission or knowledge.’

‘Don’t you worry about that,’ Charles said grimly. ‘I’ll convince her, leave that with me.’

‘All right,’ Erik said, cautiously.

‘I’m not done yet.’

Erik pulled away now, all the way back to his seat. He had a feeling he wasn’t going to like what Charles was going to say.

‘I understand now your need to find Shaw to finish this once and for all. I’m not going to stand in your way. In fact, I have a proposal for you. Emma Frost is under orders to recover and abstain from using her telepathy since she’s sustained a head injury. That will put her out of commission for a while. In exchange for converting my sister’s role in your business, I will use my telepathy to help you locate Shaw. And since you destroyed the helmet, I’ll keep him in place until you can … complete your work.’

He was wrong. He didn’t just dislike the idea. He hated it with extreme prejudice.

‘Absolutely not,’ Erik said.

Charles cocked his head to the side, showing a great deal exasperation but no surprise.

‘And how do you propose you’re going to find him when your resident telepath is pretty much non-functioning right now?’

‘Good old fashioned searching,’ Erik said. ‘I’ve got contacts everywhere that I’ve been paying off all these years. Surely one of them can do what I’ve paid them for.’

‘And what? Search for another three years, like you’ve been doing since we last saw each other? Or seven years, like when after Magda died?’ Charles drummed his fingers on the seat of his wheelchair, a sign that he was being impatient. He shook his head. ‘I know it’s brutal to hear, but –’

‘I think that’s an understatement,’ Erik interrupted.

‘But how much longer are you going to let Shaw hold this over your head?’ Charles snapped. ‘The rest of your life? Christ, I’m trying to help you here. Let me.’

‘Do you even know what you’re proposing?’ Erik barely stopped himself from losing his temper. ‘You don’t get involved with these matters and leave it with a snap of the fingers.’

‘What’s good for the goose is good for the gander,’ Charles retorted. ‘You’re knee deep in this dodgy shit, you’ve put my sister in the same pile of shit, and _you_ want _me_ to stay out?’

‘I’ve never recruited anyone who didn’t want to willingly be part of it,’ Erik insisted. ‘You don’t know how it affects you the rest of your life. Let alone the danger of your proposition. I don’t want you to be a part of it.’

Charles was quite offended. ‘Do you think I’m some kind of weak damsel or something? I’ll have you know, that even though I don’t look it, my powers have assessed to be fairly powerful, thank you very much. Not that you would know, of course, judging by how much you think I’m able to defend myself.’

‘It has nothing to do with your abilities, Charles.’ Erik got up, and began to pace.

‘Then what is it?’

‘It’s … this business. It changes you. Irrevocably. It leaves behind something.’                          

‘Like a stain on your soul,’ Charles said, very quietly. ‘I know. I’ve seen inside your mind.’

Erik sighed. ‘I don’t want you to live like that. I’ve made my choices, Charles. I’ve accepted this is my life. But you don’t have to be involved.’

Charles wheeled over to Erik, who stopped pacing. He grabbed hold of Charles’s offered hand, like it was a lifeline, a buoy in choppy waters. ‘Then let me help you finish it, so we can have a life together, a future.’

Erik wouldn’t lie and say that it wasn’t tempting. He did need a telepath, but if a manual search didn’t turn up anything, he was hoping that Emma would make a full recovery by then. Emma and Charles were both telepaths, but Emma also had the ability to change into a diamond form, and although it didn’t help her the last time they encountered Shaw, was some form of protection at least. But Charles, not only did he not have a diamond form, he was in a wheelchair. If his wheelchair was damaged, Charles couldn’t even run away to save his life.

And while losing Emma would be a terrible tragedy, losing Charles would be unthinkable. His entire being shuddered just trying to imagine it.

‘Listen to me, Erik. I can find Shaw. And I promise I won’t stay in the same room as him. I’ll watch from a distance. I can seize control of his mind from far away, far enough that there’s no possibility of him hurting me. Then you can do what you need to. I don’t want to see it, I don’t even want to hear it. I just want you to do it quickly. Don’t draw it out any further than you need to, all right? I’ll trust you to claim the justice you’ve been desiring all these years, but don’t let it become vengeance.’

‘There’s a thin line between justice and vengeance, Charles.’

‘I know. I’ll trust that you know it too. But also one more thing. My help won’t come for free.’

‘No,’ Erik said, almost reflexively. He wasn’t actually sure what Charles was going to ask. And he was a little scared to hear it.

‘Calm down, Erik,’ Charles said, irritably. ‘It’s not what you think it is.’

Erik forced himself to relax.

‘You said before that you were legitimizing your entire business. You weren’t joking about that?’

Three years of non-stop work trying to find a way to cover his tracks or refile entire stacks of paperwork or to repay on deals that had already been struck years ago. For every one area that was legitimate on the surface, there were two that had been born as a result of shady deals. He had put endless nights and days into turning over everything that he had been trained to do. Most of the trouble came from the promises that had already been made, and finding creative ways to circumvent them so he was no longer criminally liable. There were many broken agreements and hurt feelings that only lots of money could soothe away.

At this rate he was going to end up in the poor house, which bothered him a lot less than he thought it would. Money had never been a motive for him, merely a means to an end. But perhaps once it was all said and done, he wondered if perhaps a certain Westchester billionaire would keep him.  

‘No,’ Erik said. ‘I definitely wasn’t joking.’

‘Then I would like you to continue with the process, and try to speed it up where possible. But one thing that’s non-negotiable. No more killing, either by your hand or by proxy.’

Surprisingly, that wasn’t a deal breaker. Truth be told, Erik had gotten a little tired of the hunt. It never held any satisfaction for him, merely something he had to do. And there was no longer any need to hunt, if Charles was offering to help him.

‘All right,’ Erik said. He let that sink in. And felt a strange sense of relief.

Charles looked at him, as if wondering if he was telling the truth. But he seemed satisfied.

Erik gazed at Charles, somehow feeling like there was something Charles wasn’t telling him. Exactly how deep had he gone when Erik had been unconscious?

Charles blew out a breath, and squeezed his hands tightly, as if he was trying to convey what he felt to Erik. ‘It stops at Shaw. I’ll help you.’

‘Are you certain, Charles?’ Erik asked, unsure.

‘Absolutely,’ he said. ‘I’ve had weeks to think about it, darling. It’s all right. I didn’t make the decision on a whim, or without serious thought. Now if we’re in agreement, I suppose it’s time to go back in and face the day.’

Erik did not agree or disagree. Even as he helped Charles clear away the dishes, he had begun formulating ways to dissuade Charles of his plans. Yes, even though it made sense to get Charles’s help, there was just a part of him that did not want to expose Charles to any more harm if he could help it. Three years ago, Charles was hurt even though he had nothing to do with Erik’s business. What would happen this time?

He used to think that he would never meet anyone more stubborn than himself – until he met Charles, of course. Charles was stubborn as a mule and as flexible as wood. But Charles had truly outdone himself this time.

For the rest of the day, every single time he tried to approach Charles regarding the matter of his volunteered help, Charles would shut it down. Or more specifically, he would skim Erik’s surface thoughts, and answer Erik’s every concern or question before he could even begin pitching them.

Like that one instance when Charles said, ‘No, I will not consider helping you find another telepath to do this.’ Or when Erik had just finished playing chess with him and Charles said, ‘No, Erik. That is absolutely preposterous. I’m not going to bloody see if Emma Frost is up to the task. If you’re going to keep thinking that way, I’m going to have to ask you to leave my room.’

It was infuriating.

The only time Charles said yes was also when he said no. ‘Erik, don’t even think about running away to do this on your own. I will track you down, even if you try shielding. But yes to your other idea.’

‘What would that be?’ Erik asked, startled.

‘You were wondering if you could fuck me over my study table,’ Charles said, his cheeks pink.

Erik huffed. Then he sent a string of X-rated thoughts to Charles just to get his own back. It made him feel considerably better.

Honestly, he had never met anyone who could piss him off and make him laugh in the same breath. So he came around, eventually surrendered to the idea that he would accept Charles’s help. If it went down well – no, he was not going to think that way. When it was all over, he could begin his life with Charles.

If he could deal with Shaw today so he could start his life tomorrow, he would. That was how anxious he was to finish it. It would be a new start, a possibility that had never even occurred to him in the twenty-four years he had been in the business.

For the next day and a half, between having sex with Erik and finding new ways to shut him down, Charles would disappear for hours. Erik knew he was somewhere below the house, because he could sense the metal from his wheelchair.

He went downstairs instead, and bumped into someone who really shouldn’t have been out of her bed.

‘Emma,’ Erik said, startled.

She was sitting at the kitchen island in a snowy white fluffy dressing gown, drinking from a tall glass of ice-cold water and nibbling at a celery stick, flipping through the pages of a glossy magazine. Standing opposite her was the man named Logan. He was chopping up large stalks of celery and putting it into an enormous pot next to him, occasionally throwing a couple of sticks at Emma’s bowl, almost like he was feeding a beloved dog.

It was a strange and unsettling picture.

Emma turned to him. ‘Hey, boss,’ she purred. Erik rarely saw her without makeup, but her bare face only served to showcase her stunning face and clear skin.

‘What are you doing?’ Erik asked her, sending Logan a stiff nod and receiving one in return.

‘Eating.’ Emma brandished a stick at him.

‘No. I meant, what are you doing out of bed?’

‘I was bored,’ Emma said, by way of an explanation. Then she batted her eyes at Logan and said rather flirtatiously, ‘So I decided to keep Logan company while he cooks dinner.’

Logan grunted unresponsively. He began cutting carrots next. ‘You want carrots?’ he asked Emma.

She looked at him with a most scandalized expression. ‘Do you even know how many calories there are in carrots?’

Logan frowned. ‘No.’

‘Well, obviously.’ She clicked her tongue. ‘You think I get my body to look like this by eating carrots?’

Logan rolled his eyes, and tossed a carrot in her bowl. ‘Eat up, blondie. You’re skinny enough as it is.’

Emma picked up the carrot and chucked it back onto the chopping board.

Erik had to pull himself away from this strange tableau. ‘Emma, may I speak to you in private?’

Emma and Logan both looked up at him, before she gracefully slid off the stool and followed him into the ridiculously enormous walk-in pantry. Erik closed the door behind both of them to ensure maximum privacy.

‘How are you feeling?’ Erik asked.

‘Better,’ Emma said. ‘I’m getting really tired of hanging around here. This place is lovely, but not my style at all. I mean, the carpets? Have you seen them? Looks like it was made for a king. But a color-blind one.’ She shrugged her delicate shoulders.

‘We need to talk,’ Erik said.

‘What about?’ Emma said, almost cagily. ‘We can go back to the city now. And back to work.’

Her unusual hastiness made him frown. It wasn’t like Emma to want to rush back to work. Despite her fearsome efficiency, she played hooky whenever possible.

‘Emma, what’s going on?’ Erik asked, placing a hand on her shoulder, which she shrugged off almost immediately.

‘Nothing,’ she said. ‘I just want to leave.’

Erik examined her beautiful face carefully. And despite her flippant denial, he could see a trace of anxiety in her eyes. He had known her for so many years, long enough to detect the smallest changes of emotion when she chose to show it.

And then just like that, he figured out. All these damn telepaths, raiding his head with such little regard.

‘You know, don’t you?’ Erik said.

‘That you’re leaving me out of your plans?’ Emma said. ‘Of course I know. I’m just surprised it took you so long to tell me.’

‘I was –’

‘Trying to find a way to keep Xavier out of it.’

‘Yes,’ Erik said, now gently leaning against the shelf full of cans.  ‘Then you know I had no success. We’re going to go ahead with his plan. You’re not well enough, Emma. I won’t risk you using your telepathy to find Shaw and end up with you hurt.’

‘I can use my powers well enough,’ she retorted.  ‘How do you think I read your mind?’

‘Emma. It’s final. You can stay here or I can make arrangements for you to return to New York city, where you will rest or go shopping. But either way, you’re staying out of this business.’

‘So you’re leaving me behind?’ Emma said, a light sheen of ice solidifying over the hurt.

Erik didn’t know what to do. He felt thrown off by the unexpectedness of Emma having actual … feelings about the whole thing. He was so confused. She always acted like the process of hunting Shaw down had been such a pain in the ass.

‘I thought you’d be happy,’ Erik said.

‘To stay out when you and I have been pursuing the same path for so many years now? No,’ she scoffed. ‘It’s always been you and me and Shaw. Now you’re ditching me for your boyfriend, and I don’t fucking appreciate it.’

She began to open the door to stalk out but Erik pulled down the latch of the door to ensure she couldn’t.

She turned to him. ‘And now you’re back to using your powers?’

‘I know it’s always been us, Emma. But you can’t use your telepathy and I don’t want to put you at risk. I just want Shaw. So we can put him behind us once and for all. I don’t care how I get him, I just want it done.’

‘So you can start your life with Xavier, right?’ Emma said, with a hint of bitterness that confused him even more. ‘I heard that rattling around in your head a mile away. Good luck, then.’ She opened the pantry door and slammed it behind her, even before he could try to figure out why she was so upset. By the time he went after her, she had already left the kitchen, and Logan had disappeared as well.

Erik slowly walked over to the abandoned chopping board, where Logan had finished the carrots and had been starting on a bunch of beans. Erik briefly looked at the pot, hesitated, then picked up the knife to continue where Logan left off. He was probably making a vegetable soup of some kind.

He had just poured in stock and was stirring the pot when he felt Charles come into the kitchen.

‘Are you all right?’ Charles asked cautiously.

‘Why wouldn’t I be?’ Erik asked. ‘I’m just confused.  I told Emma that you were going to help me find Shaw.’

Charles wheeled closer. ‘And she didn’t like it?’

‘That’s an understatement,’ Erik said. ‘I think she was opposed to it.’

‘I think I can kind of understand,’ Charles said. He placed a hand just behind Erik’s knee, and patted reassuringly.

Erik twisted around to look at Charles. ‘You do? I don’t.’

‘That’s all right, darling. Anyways,’ Charles said. ‘I just came to tell you that we are close to honing in on Shaw’s location. I’ll probably find him by tomorrow morning. I’ve already told Azazel. So be ready.’

Erik put the ladle down briefly, and composed himself. Then he stirred again, trying to put his thoughts together to form a coherent direction. He put the ladle down, and then turned and put his hands on Charles’s wheelchair.

He bent down, close to Charles, and kissed him, strong and deep and full-bodied, as if he could convey his gratitude through the contact. Then he held on, and prayed that it would be all over soon.


	13. Chapter 13

Charles was too nervous to sleep that night, but he forced himself to shut down through use of his telepathy. So when he woke up at six the next morning, he was refreshed, well-rested, and ready to go.

He had a calming bath, and a solitary breakfast. From the windows, he could see Erik completing his third circuit of the grounds. His feet pounded the pavement like he held a grudge against it, and even from this distance Charles could see the disciplined concentration on Erik’s face.

He knew Erik would focus on the task at hand, to ensure that this time, Shaw would not escape him. Every fiber of his being was driven to complete his mission. Charles couldn’t blame him for his single-minded focus. The man had dominated such a big part of his life, and the way he had used Erik had been nothing short of shameful. His actions had impacted Erik’s soul, creating a crevasse that could not be bridged.

Charles had not lied about his delving into Erik’s consciousness when he was on the hospital bed. But he had not come clean either about how deep he had gone – almost twenty-five years back, to be precise.

He had seen how Shaw had come to Erik’s aid at his father’s wake, giving him money and offering him a job. A year after he began his employment at Shaw Industries, Erik came home to find that the mortgage on the modest house he lived in had been paid off. He had been so thankful, so grateful. And Erik vowed to do whatever he could to repay the favors that Shaw had done for him and his mother.

Over the years, the blind devotion turned to love, and one day, was shattered beyond repair when he found the employment records of the man who had caused the car accident that had taken the life of Erik’s father. Not only had Shaw paid off the man handsomely, he had used his contacts with the district attorney to suspend the prison sentence.

Shaw had groomed Erik carefully and had won his loyalty on false pretenses, single-handedly orchestrating the tragic loss and had used it to his advantage. But even worse was when Erik looked at himself, and saw that Shaw had succeeded – he had essentially become Shaw. He had helped Shaw build an entire criminal empire. He had been a willing indentured slave who had put on his own shackles in his blind ignorance.

Charles had seen how that very discovery destroyed the very last part of Erik that had still been intact when his father had died, even after what he had done on behalf of Shaw – his naiveté and childish innocence. It set him on a downward spiraling path down the road of revenge. But what he hadn’t known then was that Shaw had not finished teaching his protégé all his lessons, and that every tactic Erik employed against Shaw was what Shaw had taught him.

Charles also saw that the depths of despair that Erik had fallen down after the death of Magda and the loss of Charles’s legs. But even though he was a consummate survivor, he had become some sort of functioning depressive, who woke up to the thoughts of killing Shaw, and to sleep to the thoughts of killing Shaw. That was the only thing that kept him going.

The endless self-recrimination and remorse that Erik’s head was mired in had actually shocked Charles. Erik was a drowning man, struggling to keep his head above water.

He could only feel pity for Erik’s predicament, where he definitely shouldered much of the blame by his actions alone. All those lives he had taken, with little pity and mercy … Charles had struggled to reconcile them to the man he knew. Charles himself lived a life of morals and ethics, and Erik just about went against every tenet that he held. And yet, it was not for Charles to judge.

There was still a small part of him that wondered if Erik’s victims deserved justice. There was no doubt that they did, but it would not come from Charles. Charles would stand with the man that he loved, for the rest of his life.

Charles knew better than anyone that the prison of the mind was infinitely worse than any physical bars they could put Erik behind. He knew, without the shadow of a doubt, that Erik would spend the rest of his life paying for what he had done.

But Charles could choose to help him. Because love was all-encompassing, and love was forgiveness, and acceptance. Charles would not stop loving him. And for that, it made him complicit in Erik’s sins. He was willing to accept it, as well as the burden of the cross of knowledge and choice that he would have to bear for the rest of his life. It was the price he would willingly pay to love this man, and Charles made peace with it as the one of the most selfish decisions in his life.

But Shaw was like a festering sickness that was killing him from within, and Charles saw that Erik could no longer break out of the cycle of violence and regret on his own. It was consuming him from inside, and Charles knew what had to be done. He had to help Erik fulfil his death wish, and then pull him back from the brink of death.  

Yes, it was wrong to kill any human. But Shaw was not worthy of salvation, not with the evil he had perpetrated in this world.

He had cast his lot with Erik’s, almost as soon as he had lost his legs. He just didn’t know it then. Fate had bound them together in the red string of destiny, and Charles would not shirk from it now. He would help Erik shoulder whatever it was to come.

But Charles did not explain to Erik about any of this, about how much he knew. There were some things that Erik did not need to know.

Like how Emma Frost really felt about Erik, and why she had turned on Shaw, for Erik. If she wished to tell him, then she could. It was not Charles’s place to do so.

Or like the fact that Charles had already found Shaw three days ago, but was waiting for Erik to recover physically and mentally, to become stronger, and get ready to say goodbye to this part of his life that had straggled on for far too long.

Henry McCoy was a brilliant man, and he had come up with the idea of a machine that could amplify Charles’s telepathic brain waves in order to help him locate the whereabouts of Sebastian Shaw, now that his blocking helmet had been destroyed. He had been on the move, as if it could help him avoid detection. Charles had been easily tracking him for days now, and he felt that Erik was finally ready.

Erik disappeared into the house and a couple of hours later, he joined Charles in the living room, where Azazel was already waiting. Charles had asked the remaining adults to take the children out of the house and for a day trip. They had already left. Anyone non-essential was out of the way as well. So they were ready.

Azazel had already told him that he would be able to bring Charles along with his wheelchair. They both held onto to Azazel’s hand, and within a single breath they had teleported into an empty hotel room in Hong Kong’s Tsim Sha Tsui district.

Teleportation was as unpleasant as ever, Charles thought to himself, coughing and wheezing from the smell of sulfur. ‘He’s in the room just below this one. By the time you approach the room, I’ll have him. So get in and get it done.’

Erik nodded. Then he slipped out of the door, shoulders relaxed and loose, resolve on his face.

Charles put out a tracker to follow Erik, and seeing him as he went down the stairwell and down a level before standing in front of room 4509. With Erik’s eyes and heart, he could feel that Erik was feeling calm and quiet and with a strong sense of purpose. He disabled the magnetic scanner, and pushed the door open quietly.

Directly in front of him was Sebastian Shaw, still and unmoving in a chair, head turned towards the doorway, where he had been responding to the sound of the scanner clicking before Charles had frozen him.

Erik stared at Shaw’s unseeing eyes, almost unable to believe how laughably easy it all was. Ironic, considering that he had spent so much time hunting this motherfucker down. But it was time. So much effort across the dozens of years culminated in this one single moment.

From his pocket, a coin floated upwards into the air, careful and controlled under Erik’s powers.

It was an American silver dollar, a perfectly cut round circle, hefty and solid in its weight. It was made from pure silver, and Erik knew exactly the dimensions and the weight and its history. On the obverse side of the coin were the words _LIBERTY_ and _IN GOD WE TRUST._

How fitting, Erik thought.

Erik had always felt like he had been the coin. It was worth little value on the surface, but had immense value brimming under the plain façade. Shaw had only regarded him as a tool, a means to achieve a desired end. In the end, he hadn’t even wanted it.

Shaw had once been his god, his everything. He had extended a helping hand to Erik in the darkness, and given him the ability to continue with his life in a comfortable manner – with economic security, job stability, the ability to influence others, and power. Though it had come at an exorbitant price, one that he knew he would pay for the rest of his life.

But with Shaw’s death, perhaps he would finally be free.   

He could feel Charles in his head, urging him to stay calm.

Erik took a deep breath, and suddenly felt a strange sentiment, a memory that his mind conjured up now that Shaw was finally at his mercy.

During the wake, while his mother was being consoled by grieving friends and family, Erik had retreated to a corner of the house. He had been swimming in a nameless grief over the inexplicably unfair stroke of fate, feeling as if the collar of his buttoned-up shirt was strangling him.  Shaw had come up to him, placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. Erik watched as he took out a large cream envelope.

‘Erik,’ Shaw said quietly. ‘My name is Sebastian Shaw. Your father worked for me as a foreman at one of the factories I own. I am so sorry for your loss.’

Erik nodded numbly.

‘I know you must be hurting, son. But it’s going to be all right, I promise.’

‘How can it be all right?’ Erik asked, grasping at straws, hoping that this polite and well-dressed man would have an answer for him. How could it be, when his world had turned upside down? Two days ago, he had identified the mangled body of his father at the hospital morgue, trying to spare his mother of this particular insult to the man she had loved. Without the breadwinner of the family, their savings would run out within the next few months. He was still in high school. And his mother had been defeated by the grief of loss. How could anything be right in a world like that?

Shaw gently lifted Erik’s hand and slid the envelope into his palm. ‘This will help, a little. Your father was a very good man, and I am sorry it had to come to this. If you need a job, Erik, there’s an opening at my business. I can help you, and your mother.’

The weight and thickness of the envelope did not escape his attention. ‘Why?’ Erik asked, barely able to believe what he was hearing.

‘Because I think you’re going to have a wonderful future,’ Shaw said sincerely. ‘You’re a good kid. When you’re ready, come look for me. I’ll have a job for you.’ Shaw handed over a glossy business card, and Erik tucked it safely into the oversized pocket of his father’s jacket, along with the envelope.

‘Thank you,’ he whispered, almost shaking with gratitude at the lifeline that had been tossed at him.

‘You’re welcome, son,’ Shaw said, and patted him on the shoulder again.

Erik slowly eased out of his memory, and looked at the man in front of him. Shaw was much older now, and that cunning was still hidden underneath that charming façade. Suddenly, he felt profound regret that it had come to this. Their seemingly brilliant partnership had exploded into a fiery inferno before disintegrating into the cat and mouse game as they had now.

He had killed many before, but had never hesitated with any of them. Not even his first. But now, standing in front of Shaw, who was literally at his mercy, Erik felt only a deep sadness. And hesitation. And remorse.

Had Shaw felt anything for him at all? Had he ever once sincerely cared for Erik at all?

He accepted that those were questions to which he would never obtain answers.

There was a moment where his journey for vengeance had dissipated into thin air, and he considered letting Shaw go.

But it had long become game of survival for the both of them. Shaw had to die, in order for Erik to live.

Erik felt an unexpected tear trickle out from the corner of his eye. Shaw had been many things to Erik – a murderous thug, a ruthless egomaniac, a cruel mentor. But before all that, once upon a time, he had been beloved.

‘You were like a father to me,’ Erik said. ‘And I loved you. Good bye, Sebastian.’

Erik let the coin follow a straight, unerring path through the middle of Shaw’s forehead, and out the other side, where it dropped to the floor, corrupted with blood.

It was over.

And all he felt was emptiness, and at long last, relief.


	14. Chapter 14

Erik had left the room, and returned to the one above where Azazel and Charles were waiting for him. Except when he got in, Charles had been slumped over on the bed, in a peculiar curled up shape. He rushed over, and looked to Azazel for an answer.

‘What happened?’ Erik asked.

Azazel had no idea. Charles had just slumped over, as if he had been in pain, and fallen over to the ground, completely unconscious. Erik was about to demand that Azazel take them to a hospital when Charles stirred.

‘Stop yelling,’ Charles murmured. ‘I’m fine.’

‘What happened?’ Erik asked frantically.

‘I was still holding Shaw when you put the coin through,’ Charles said.

A surge of guilt flooded through him. ‘I’m so sorry,’ he whispered. ‘Are you all right?’

‘It was completely horrible,’ Charles said. ‘But yes, I am.’

Instead, he pulled Erik’s face into his chest and held him until they were ready to leave.

A part of Erik could not quite believe that it was over. Days later, he was still trying to come to terms with it. He had returned to New York City with Azazel and Emma, where he continued his daily routine as if nothing had happened. But something had.

Shaw may have been dead, but the consequences were just beginning.

He woke up for his usual 6am run but didn’t feel the need to constantly look over his shoulder. He showered, shaved, ate breakfast and arrived at the office at 8am. He worked, squeezed in lunch, worked until the sun began to set. Then he would drive out to Westchester, just in time to read his children a bedtime story and kiss them goodnight.

Then he would sit down with Charles, eat a late dinner. They would retire to Charles’s bedroom, to fuck, until his body was completely spent and his mind would finally quiet. But then, once he entered sleep, the dreams would plague him. The what-ifs and imagined alternatives were so utterly vivid that sometimes Erik would wake up, confused as to which was reality and which was a dream. Was the one where Charles lay asleep next to him, bare and beautiful in the moonlight, in a world where Shaw was dead, a dream? He would reach out, and touch Charles for himself. No, it was real.

But some nights he would wake up from a sweat-drenched nightmare where Charles was dead in the hotel bed, where Erik had mistakenly killed him instead of Shaw. There were multiple iterations of that scenario that would come again and again.

Then there was that sense of emptiness that followed him everywhere he went. The biggest driver of motivation in his life for so many years was gone, and he felt confused and lost. What was he supposed to do next?

And sometimes he was so sad he wondered if there was a young Erik inside of him, unexpectedly grieving. But for whom?  

On one particularly lovely Saturday morning, Charles, having tired of his brooding ways, had kicked him out of the house with a tennis racket. He took a leisurely walk down to the tennis court, where Logan awaited him.

Erik knew nothing about Logan, except that he was a mutant and part of the teaching faculty. He was a lousy cook, and there was something going on between him and Emma.

But after six games with Logan, Erik now knew that he was a brute on the court. Logan had a large reservoir of energy and enthusiasm, and had a wicked backhand that shot the ball all the way over the other side of the court, forcing Erik to really run for it. His endless stamina meant he could put Erik through punishing rallies.

Erik almost collapsed in the heat, and had to practically crawl into the shaded gazebo where a tall pitcher of ice-cold water sat sweating. Logan joined him under the huge umbrella, looking like he barely broke a sweat.

‘What the hell … are you on?’ Erik panted out.

‘Nothing,’ Logan said. He scrutinized Erik openly over his glass of cold water. ‘I just lift a lot of weights.’

Erik did the same with Logan. ‘Right. Doesn’t explain why your legs look like that.’

They both took measure of each other.

Erik didn’t know what to make of Logan. He couldn’t say he liked him, but he didn’t dislike him either.

‘So what’s your relationship with Emma all about?’ Erik threw it out there, only to have Logan catch it and pitch it right back to him.

‘What’s your relationship with Xavier all about?’

Erik pursed his lips, but Logan answered it for him.

‘Relax, I know you’re boyfriends.’

Erik blanched at that word. It reminded him of high school, which wasn’t a particularly happy memory.

Logan seemed to enjoy his discomfort. ‘You’ve got a good boyfriend there, Lehnsherr.’

‘I know,’ Erik said. ‘You don’t have to tell me that. What I would like to know is what’s going on between you and Emma.’

‘Nothing, not that it’s any of your business,’ Logan drawled. ‘Also, she’s furious at you. So maybe stay away from her for a while.’

Erik glared at him. ‘I see her every day and she seems fine.’

‘Really? She was just texting me yesterday how much she hates your guts.’

Logan was a shit-stirrer. Erik downed his water and picked up his racquet. ‘Another game?’

Logan grinned. And he proceeded to kill Erik on the court.

Erik dragged himself back to the main house when he was done, wondering if this was what death felt like. His arms were sore and his back was killing him.  It was so hot that he turned on the garden hose and drenched himself with an impromptu shower just to cool down.

Inside, he ran into Peter and Wanda, who were just eating their lunch. Erik draped his sweaty arms over Wanda, who squealed with disgust and screamed for her father to get off her. ‘Daddy, you’re all wet!’

‘Ewww!’ Peter said, as Erik grabbed him by the neck and pulled him in for a big wet hug. They protested, but Erik managed to squeeze in a couple of sweaty hugs and wet kisses, making his kids groan in exasperation. David watched him, fascinated. Erik walked up to him, and bent down to speak in his ear.

‘Want some wet stinky hugs too?’ Erik asked.

David giggled and shook his head. Erik wiped his sweaty forearm against David’s neck, making him squeal like his children had.

Edie watched him from behind the safety of the counter. When Erik caught her eye, she shook her head. 

‘Mama,’ he said, reaching out for her with both hands. Wanda laughed and giggled.

‘Don’t you dare, Erik,’ Edie warned, a steely no-nonsense glint in her eyes. ‘ _Nein, danke_ ,’ she said, which trailed off into a half-hearted groan as he grabbed her in a bear hug. When he walked away, she glanced down at her wet shirt, and thwacked him in the back, sending the children into fits of hysterical laughter.

Then he jogged up the stairs and to Charles’s study.

Charles was sitting at his desk, with his sexy little pair of librarian glasses, working at his laptop. He was becoming busier, since school would resume next week. He smiled absently as Erik walked in, then suddenly noticed his wet shirt.

Charles pulled down the lid of his laptop slightly so he could get a better view.

Erik shut the door behind him, making sure that Charles could hear the click of the lock engaging. Then he peeled off his shirt, and let it pool soddenly at his feet.

Now that got Charles’s attention. He shut the lid down all the way.

‘How was tennis with Logan?’ Charles asked.

‘Appalling,’ Erik said. His fingers began untying the knot at the top of his exercise shorts. He let his pants drop to the floor.  

He slowly wriggled out of his underwear as Charles pulled off his glasses, tucked them away in a drawer, trying to affect some degree of calm but his eyes just wouldn’t cooperate. They kept roving over to Erik’s damp and naked form.  

Erik leisurely walked up to Charles’s desk, slowly stroking himself to full hardness, not saying a word, and perching himself right on the corner of the desk. Charles bit his lip, his body betraying his desire with Erik so close, but not touching him at all.

When he was finally nice and hard, Erik gently guided Charles’s overeager lips over his cock, letting the sweet sensations conjured up by his magic tongue roll pleasantly through him. He let Charles steadily work him up, head bobbing between Erik’s legs, enjoying the way his already sore muscles begin to tense and brace as the pleasure built to a crest.

He came with a soft moan and his fingers digging into Charles’s scalp. Charles swallowed, and slapped him lightly on his thigh. ‘Get off my table, man,’ he said, a cheeky grin on his smug face.

‘Come to the bedroom with me and I’ll make it worth your while,’ Erik said.

Charles shook his head, regret in his eyes. ‘Not now, darling. I really have to pin down these lesson plans before school starts up on Monday. I’ve left it a little too late, I’m afraid. Raincheck?’

Erik leaned down and bit Charles on his neck, sucking long and hard enough to elicit a longing moan from him. ‘Your loss,’ he whispered.

Then he hopped off the table and sauntered off, picking up his clothes and pulling on his pants. He had a cold shower, and after that, he slept the day away.

When he awoke, his pillow was damp with tears.

He didn’t even know what he was crying for. Or for whom. Was it Shaw? Or his younger self, who had been robbed of his innocence so cruelly? Or was he crying for Charles, who still had to live with the consequences of Shaw’s actions even though the man was dead? Or was it for Magda, whose death he had avenged, yet it did not bring her back to life?

Charles was sitting next to him, sitting on top of the covers, reading quietly. He looked over when Erik turned to him. ‘You missed dinner, darling. Would you like me to warm it up for you?’

Erik shook his head. ‘I’m not hungry,’ he said. He dragged himself closer to Charles, and bent to kiss his motionless thighs. Then he fell asleep again, halfway through reciting the silent prayer that he did every day and night to no one in particular, that he would be granted what he needed the most – peace.

The next day was an exercise in controlled chaos, where Erik awoke to a mansion full of children and teenagers. Erik cringed as he was walking down the steps, hearing the din that the students made as they reported in and familiarized themselves with the mansion again or for the first time. He snuck out the side of the house, jumped into his car, and drove aimlessly.

When he got tired of driving, he turned around and drove home.  

He got back to an endless stream of loud noises and children and teenagers getting underfoot. Erik disliked it immensely. He headed straight to one of the entertainment rooms in the private wing of the house. Instead, he found Logan already watching a movie, nursing the first of a six-pack of beer that sat next to him. Erik sat down next to him and grabbed a beer for himself, and they both watched the movie in a comfortable silence.

‘This movie fucking sucks,’ Erik commented after ten minutes.

‘You go grab another movie then,’ Logan said. ‘The DVDs are all in the rec room.’

Erik contemplated it. He would have to go back and wade through the throng of excited students. No thank you.

So they sat and watched _Sex and the City 2_.

But that night, he got to crawl into bed with Charles who was fast asleep, passed out from the excitement of the day.

He listened to Charles’s steady heartbeat, a little fearful of the dreams that would come tonight.

Deep inside, he knew that he had become Shaw, but unlike that narcissistic psychopath, he had been redeemed only by Charles Xavier’s love for him. He was under no illusion that he was a saint of any kind. If his daily struggles were a penance to his past mistakes, then he would suffer gladly for as long as he could stay next to Charles.

It was Charles who had been his savior all along. He had saved him the first time they met, and he had saved Erik again and again after that, forgiving him for his iniquities, accepting him for who he was with a great deal of grace.

And so life continued, with its constant ebb and flow.

He would continue to search for this elusive peace, no matter how many years it took.

Because he knew no matter what happened, as long as he had Charles by his side, he would be all right.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end! I hope you had fun. I certainly did. Enjoy this final chapter of fluff, marshmallow cotton candy unicorns for our two silly boys. 
> 
> A special shout-out for the regular commenters as well - sorry for dragging your asses through the angst and pain, but loved having you on this awesome Cherik journey. Until we meet again!

_4 months later_

‘He’s so beautiful,’ Charles breathed out, holding the tiny bundle in his arms. The baby had been swaddled tightly in a thin cotton sheet, and he was wrinkly and frowny and wise and peaceful in a way only newborns could be. Kneeling next to the wheelchair was Erik, who was staring at the baby with an intense gaze, as if silently questioning how such an angelic looking little bean could cause his parents so much pain and anxiety during the birth.

Charles stroked a finger down the baby’s soft cheeks. He had forgotten how small babies could be. But here was this beautiful child, nearly eight pounds and with a healthy set of lungs. He had arrived after nearly sixteen hours of intense back labor.

When he looked up at Erik, he knew he was remembering the birth of his own children. Something this small could change the trajectory of your life forever. And yet, it could be such a wonderful journey. Charles gave his new nephew another gentle cuddle before returning him to his exhausted mother and nervous and proud father.

They congratulated Raven on a job well done, and as Charles drove home, Erik dozed in the car. He had been very tired lately, and hadn’t been getting enough sleep. Like this morning. Charles knew, because he had woken up in the middle of the night to find that Erik had disappeared. He wasn’t in the bathroom or any of his usual haunts, and Charles had to end up using his telepathy to find him in the most unlikely of places.

Charles had pulled a blanket around his shoulders and wheeled down to the swimming pool where Erik was doing laps.

He waited for Erik to finish his lap and surface from the water.

‘Are you crazy?’ Charles asked. ‘It’s 2am and it’s freezing cold out here.’

Erik’s head bobbed in the water. ‘It’s a heated pool, Charles. Besides, I couldn’t sleep.’

Charles knew that some nights were rough for Erik. But it was to be expected. You couldn’t just walk away from something you had done for twenty plus years and not have it affect you. He felt sorry for the fact that he couldn’t help Erik more. But Erik had to battle his own demons, and Charles had to be patient.

So Charles watched as Erik did another eight laps before he pulled himself out of the water. He pressed a kiss on the top of Charles’s head, careful not to drip on him. Erik wiped himself up with a towel, and they walked companionably back to the house, where Charles put on a kettle and made some tea.

Even though Erik didn’t say anything, Charles was content to sit by him quietly, until they were ready to go back to bed.

As they drove home from the hospital, Charles pulled into the garage. He parked the car next to Erik’s black Audi, and quietly turned off the ignition. Erik was still asleep, so Charles left one of the windows open and was about to open the door when Erik’s hand closed over his.

‘Stay with me,’ Erik said. ‘Just five minutes.’ He leaned across and nestled his head against Charles’s shoulder.

So Charles rested his eyes, and waited.

 

_14 months later_

It had been such a beautiful ceremony that afternoon, Charles thought to himself. And the reception had been wonderful, reflecting Moira’s typically good taste and sense of fun. The tablecloths were pink and white, and the centerpiece was an oversized clear vase overflowing with pink roses and gerbera daisies and tall irises. He finished the last of the delicious lemon buttercream wedding cake and contemplated having one more slice.

An untouched slice of cake slid in front of him, replacing his empty plate. He looked up to see Erik putting it to the side, and taking his seat next to Charles.

Charles grinned, and picked up his fork.

‘Thanks,’ he murmured between bites.

Erik shrugged, and leaned back in the white covered chair with a pink bow. He had been tearing up the dance floor with Jean during a particularly raucous song, but now that it had segued into a ballad, he had left her with Scott. His left hand stroked Charles’s thigh affectionately and absently.

Charles enthusiastically finished up his cake, before realizing that Erik was watching his mouth in a fairly distracted manner. Erik leaned forward to wipe the smidge of cream on his bottom lip with his thumb, and Charles leaned into his touch, and licked him. Even in the darkened room Charles could see Erik’s gaze contract with lust, and he teasingly brushed his thumb over Charles’s lips again. Charles looked at him boldly and invitingly.

‘Ewww! Get a room, you sappy bastards,’ Moira shouted at them cheerfully, almost tripping over her voluminous wedding dress. Sean barely caught her from taking a tumble, and they both giggled at each other, shamelessly happy on their wedding day. They were both delirious with champagne and happiness.

Charles and Erik both watched them, amused. Charles felt Erik move his chair close to his. He put his arms around Charles and laced their hands together.

Charles leaned his head back against the crook of Erik’s shoulder, watching Moira and Sean dance sloppily and tipsily, filled with a warm sense of happiness for his oldest friend.

But after a while, close contact with Erik triggered his olfactory senses. That sweet-spiciness of his aftershave, and that crisp smell of clean skin. The scent of his beloved.

‘Let’s go upstairs,’ Erik whispered.

‘I was just about to suggest that,’ Charles replied.

They discreetly left the reception hall and made their way to the elevators that took them to the hotel room. It was nice that Moira and Sean held their reception at the hotel so their guests could just drink, dance, and celebrate the night away before crashing into the cozy beds upstairs.

They held hands all the way back to their room.

Once the door closed behind them, Erik started stripping off his jacket when Charles said, ‘You looked like you were having a ball out there, dancing.’

‘I did,’ Erik said.                                      

Charles scrutinized Erik’s face. He had been reserved in the day, and slightly uneasy in the evening. It was like he had been trying to fight off a wave of low level anxiety, and had been throwing himself into everything that would drain him of energy, such as dancing or running errands for the bride and groom.

‘Is everything all right?’ Charles asked.

‘Yes,’ Erik said. He was also being unusually reticent. But he would talk if he needed to, so Charles began removing his jacket and tie, placing them neatly on the bed so Erik could hang them up in the closet.

Charles wheeled his chair over to Erik, pressing gentle kisses against his hips. His fingers groped the outside of Erik’s pants, and he felt something hard. He laughed.

‘Either that’s your wallet, or you must be really happy to see me,’ he teased.

Erik actually stiffened awkwardly. ‘That’s not my wallet,’ he said.

Charles poked him playfully. ‘Then I’d better say hi,’ he said.

Erik did not respond, which was unusual on its own. Combined with his uncharacteristic distractedness, Charles wondered if something serious was underfoot. Whatever it was, Erik was hiding something from him. He backed up a couple of steps and laid his hands in his lap.

‘Is everything all right?’ he asked again, this time, neutrally, carefully. ‘Is it work?’

‘What?’ Erik asked, confused. ‘No, it’s all fine.’

‘Then why are you being so weird?’ Charles asked.

‘I’m not. I wasn’t,’ Erik said.

Charles crossed his arms, and blinked. And waited.  

Erik sighed.

‘I was just wondering how to do this.’ He put his hand in his pants pocket and pulled out a black ring box. He flipped it open, and nestled between the white cushions was a ring, practically identical to the one that Erik always wore on his hand, and the one that Charles had left behind once upon a time.

‘Are you …’ Charles trailed off, unable to believe his eyes.

‘Proposing?’ Erik completed for him. ‘And just to clarify, not just dating or cohabitation, or you wearing a ring so I can track you. I’m proposing marriage. Legally binding us and our children so we can become a family.’

Charles watched as Erik got down on one knee, lifted the ring with his finger and thumb, and Charles’s finger with his other hand. It was typical of Erik, Charles thought wryly. As long as he didn’t explicitly refuse, Erik would take it as a yes. He slid the ring onto the third finger on his left hand.

It fit perfectly.

Charles was so pleased that he didn’t really have to say anything at all.

 

_24 months later_

‘Erik,’ Charles said warningly. His voice was tight and curt, and his eyes furious, body language defensive and ready for a fight. But Erik himself was not in the mood to appease Charles. He was simmering away on a low boil.

They were in the bedroom at the Westchester home, a sanctuary that was no stranger to the many passions between Erik and Charles, whether it involved explosive arguments or tender lovemaking.

‘You’re going to be the death of me,’ Charles said. ‘You’re being utterly ridiculous.’

Erik knew he was being ridiculous. But self-knowledge didn’t mean that he stopped behaving that way. And Charles’s petty insults didn’t make him feel any better.  So he continued unpacking his bag in a surly, silent manner while feeling Charles’s hot gaze burning a hole in his back.

‘You’re a grown man,’ Charles continued. ‘You are being immature and petty.’ Erik ignored him. He didn’t care if he was being immature or petty. He would sulk until he felt better, and he didn’t care what Charles thought about it.

In the ensuing silence, Charles finally realized that maybe his approach wasn’t the most conciliatory. He softened his voice and went up to Erik. He placed one arm around Erik’s waist. ‘Darling, I promise to make it up to you.’

Erik stared at Charles. ‘Did you know I spent four months lining this up perfectly, making all the necessary arrangements so you would be comfortable? And I had to accumulate all my leave so we could go away for the whole month.’

Charles pulled back a little, but his arm remained on Erik. ‘Why would you need to accumulate leave? You own the company.’

Erik pursed his lips. He did, but half a year ago he had stepped down as CEO and handed the reins over to Emma Frost, who, by the way, was a difficult taskmaster. He had done it in order to spend more time with the children so Charles could concentrate on running the school, which was expanding at a breakneck pace. He reduced his working hours to about three full workdays, so he could at least be around for four days of the week for the children. But Emma always wanted him close, and refused to permit him to go for an entire month until he had a million meetings with different departments and perused a ridiculous amount of documents.

So he had scheduled a special trip to coincide with their first wedding anniversary. They had taken a raincheck for their honeymoon, since it was their first priority to ensure that their children in the newly formed family unit were on solid ground. Therefore, this trip was supposed to be their actual honeymoon. And he had made sure it was scheduled during the summer holidays, so it wouldn’t interfere with Charles’s teaching schedule.

But to Erik’s shock, Charles had begged off the first week, just three days before the trip, saying that he needed to take care of a brewing crisis involving a mutant teenager and his human parents. Although he was not Charles’s student, he had felt compelled to step in before the kid ended up in juvenile detention.

Was it a noble thing to do? Yes. Was it the right thing to do? Undoubtedly. Was it the right thing to do as Erik’s husband? Hell no. Charles had wanted him to fly out first, and he would meet him a week later. The moment Charles had proposed that incredibly stupid idea, Erik started unpacking. He didn’t want to be in a honeymoon suite in beautiful Bora Bora on his own.  He would rather not go at all.

He was so disappointed. He had been looking forward to spending time with his husband. It had been a brutally busy year since they had gotten married under an arch of flowers on Charles’s estate on a beautiful sun-dappled day. Charles had been as busy as ever, and the children were practically running them ragged. Between the three children’s music and sports lessons, special camps and activities and their own professional work, Erik and Charles had hardly any time to be with each other. But now as summer was descending upon them, he had been looking forward to the nice lengthy getaway, away from their lovely but insane children, and from the crazy ass population that seem to permanently reside at the Graymalkin Lane mansion.

But Charles had pulled this shit on him. Erik was livid, and Charles knew it.

‘Erik,’ he said again, his voice now a lot softer than it had been a couple of hours ago when Erik had scalded him with a barely controlled expression of anger, and Charles had become rather defensive and accused Erik of being selfish. ‘I’m really sorry. But you of all people know that I can’t leave anyone alone when I know I can help.’

Erik wordlessly tried to surmount his own frustration. He grudgingly curled his arm on Charles’s shoulder, but was unwilling to do anything further.

‘How about this, Erik? Come with me. That way we’ll still be together. Then we’ll fly out next week. And for three glorious weeks, I’ll spend every second glued to your side. You’ll be so sick of me,’ Charles teased.

‘Never,’ Erik said, letting Charles shower him with apologetic and conciliatory kisses around his torso. Then suddenly his hand went lower. Despite himself, Erik felt himself respond.

Charles’s anger and annoyance had dissipated into playful lust. He always knew what buttons to press, Erik thought ruefully as he scooped up his husband and threw him on the bed, over the neatly folded clothes that had had been unpacking.

Charles laughed smugly, and Erik silenced him with a kiss to the lips. He would exact his payment from Charles, Erik thought, his hands wandering down to Charles’s fly and unzipping him. Then he lowered his mouth down to Charles’s cock.

But first, he looked forward to making Charles squirm and scream until he lost his mind.

 

_34 months later_

Erik toed off his shoes and into the thick bunny slippers that the kids had gotten or him on Father’s Day just a couple of months ago as a gag gift. He put away the briefcase into his study and undid his collar and tie, hanging up his waistcoat before going downstairs. He followed the familiar metal of Charles’s wheelchair, and found them by the pool, where the twins were currently engaged in some kind of race (what was the point, really, considering Peter’s mutation) and sweet David was floating on an inflatable swan, watching them, egging and cheering them on. They were preteens turning into teenagers now, which was a unique kind of fresh hell for Charles and Erik.

David still retained his sweet and kind side despite his startling intelligence. Peter was easy and cheerful and kind of loopy, but Wanda was like Erik – serious, ambitious and focused. She had recently been “dating”, causing a great deal of angst between her fathers. Charles had insisted they try to be civil, yet he had been the one to scan the boyfriend’s mind when she had brought him home. All Erik had done was tug at the metal bits on the kid – all of it, including the tongue piercing he had.

Charles was sitting at the pool side, on a blanket on the ground, sipping a tall glass of lemonade. The water came up to his knees, and he was laughing at the twins. Lately, Peter, who had been growing steadily, had become strong enough to pick up Charles from his wheelchair and move him around. Charles had not necessarily been pleased at this, but had to learn to accept that his loved ones only meant to help him, instead of regarding it as a burden or obligation.

Erik walked up to Charles, then got down on the ground, spreading his legs on either side of Charles, then pulling him close. He toed off his slippers and dipped his feet into the cool water. Charles leaned back, pushed up his sunglasses, and received the peck that Erik pressed to his temple. They watched the children horse around in the pool as the lightning bugs begin to emerge.

Across the years, his nightmares had gradually left him. His past had left him marked, a wound on his soul. But as with all wounds in time, they had become scars.

He was much older now, closer to fifty than forty. He would occasionally look back at what he did, and accept regret as an old friend on his journey. But those occasions came less now, and soon his life with Charles began to take on a steady rhythm, and the small moments of simple happiness were more than enough to buoy him over to the next.

And as he felt the vibrations of Charles’s chuckles at Peter’s ridiculous antics transmit over to him in their close embrace, he involuntarily tightened his hold. Charles turned to him, his face upturned, accepting the tender kiss that Erik pressed to his lips. Then they laughed together as their children began shooting streams of water from their plastic pistols straight at their faces, yelling with childish disgust and making gagging noises at their kissing.

Perhaps that was what peace was, he thought to himself, hugging Charles tightly, watching as Charles shot Wanda in the face with his own water pistol. To live life without the need for fear or vengeance – Charles had taught him that. Charles had saved him. He had forged a new life with the man he loved at the center of his universe, and every single morning he woke up, he was endlessly grateful and thankful that he had been given this second chance.

And he could ask for nothing more.


End file.
